


The Guardian

by leadernovaandthemacabre



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Asphyxiation, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Demon Kolivan, Demons AU, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sex, Fluff and Smut, Kolivan is much older, Lance has depression, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory Mention, Porn with Feelings, Racial Discrimination, Rough Sex, Shiro has PTSD, Size Difference, Teratophilia, Trans Lance, Virgin Lance, Witch AU, Witch Adam, Witch Lance, afab language, background Adashi, copious communication, demon Curtis, demon contract negotiations, demon keith, fast burn, polygamy mention, self-harm mention, there is a LOT of talking, witch and demons au, witch shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leadernovaandthemacabre/pseuds/leadernovaandthemacabre
Summary: Lance is the youngest student of the Shirogane Coven and has advanced in his lessons enough to take part in the rite of passage of summoning his demon familiar. The ceremony is a success…depending on whose side you’re on.(Appropriated from metalokau’s Halloween Kolivance fic.)
Relationships: Kolivan/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 87
Kudos: 268





	1. New Familiar

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [new familiar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138023) by [Metalotaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metalotaku/pseuds/Metalotaku). 



“I can smell your anxiety from outside.”

“Keith, please.”

“Takashi, you know better than to let him do this.”

“Keith.”

“If the wrong demon gets a whiff of his uncertainty this place’ll become a battle zone fighting down whatever monster he summons.”

“Keith, either express your concern in a palatable way or do not be a witness to the ritual.”

“It’s okay, Shiro,” and Lance stood from painting the floor. He popped one earplug out and tossed Keith a mean grin. “When I summon a monster I’ll tell it to eat Keith first.”

“You can only order it around after you make a contract with it,” Keith snarled, rounding Lance’s summoning circle an arm’s length wide, careful to keep his talons clear of the paint that reeked of chicken’s blood. “Which it won’t be able to do if it shares _your_ wit!”

Lance blushed in fury, “Listen here you—”

Shiro slapped his thigh. The loud clap made them flinch. Keith flinched again under Shiro’s incredulous stare.

He protested, “I didn’t start it!”

Lance roared: “You called me an idiot!”

“You called me _food!”_

Shiro bodily stepped between them. Eye-contact broken, Keith retreated to one corner of the barn. His tail followed him, twitching irritably.

“Count with me,” Shiro stood clear of Lance’s circle as well. “One.”

Lance sighed. “Two.”

“Three.”

Lance inhaled. “Four.”

With each breath his shoulders fell and his back straightened and the candles studded around the space lost their flare. The objects around them gradually fell into the obscurity of shadow again. The fire had reflected his mood.

The barn was a closeted space to practice their flashier, physical magics. That included broom making, divination, sacrifices and cooking with the dead things that Curtis didn’t want gunking up his kitchen.

Shiro said, “Nine?”

“Ten.” Lance was calm again. “I’m sorry.”

“Focus, Lance,” he replied in lieu of admonishment. “A witch of your caliber cannot afford to be unfocused.”

Lance worked his jaw. “A witch of my caliber?”

Keith teased from his corner, “Explosive.”

Shiro corrected, _“Powerful._ There are magic users the world over who would kill for the aptitude you have for the arcane arts. But all the power in the world means nothing without a well-honed conduit: your focus and your skill.” He was a little softer. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Shiro.”

Shiro looked up. A circular skylight showed a full moon almost perfectly lined up. “It’s time. Get ready. Remember your training. Stay calm. Stay _focused.”_

Lance nodded, blew out a sigh, rolled his shoulders, ignored Keith’s eyes on him. Shiro stepped out of his peripheral vision.

Lance’s eyes and intent fell on the shells placed on each cardinal point of his summoning circle. Each one brought a beat of melancholy to his heart. He and Adam had gone to Cuba for the exclusive purpose of sourcing them. Lance had spent much of the day scanning the skyline for his family. He felt the time they had spent there was too short, and he’d wept on the return home.

In each shell was a little water. Water from Varadero beach, from the well he used to drought his tea each morning, from his first storm since joining Shiro’s coven, and from a creek behind their house on the reserve where he’d shared a moment of mutual understanding with a bear fresh out of hibernation.

Lance channeled his feelings into will. He stood to the north of his summoning circle where a smaller summoning circle was waiting for him. He drew his wand from his belt—driftwood with a little coral growing out of it—gave the air a few cursory smacks and reached for the ether.

The ether reached back. It was like holding hands with an old friend, a lost love. The ether was not sentient but it _responded,_ and Lance was always unnerved when Adam and Shiro said they could not feel her potential for consciousness. They were unnerved when he called the magical equivalent of electricity a she.

 _Focus,_ he reminded himself bluntly. He exhaled, he reached for the ether, caressed her in his mind, and offered the power in his blood in exchange for her power to punch through the layer of their reality. Ever eager to please, she beget him.

Shiro aside watched Lance work with a firm jaw.

“Fuck,” Keith whispered at his side. “Not even Adam opened a portal that quickly.”

“Lance is a powerful witch, I would have expected no less.”

Keith didn’t think that Shiro spoke with praise. He murmured, “Shiro, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Shiro didn’t respond. His unmoving, firm posture replied for him.

Lance lifted his hands up. The waters spiraled out of their shells, dissolving into mist and forming a vortex. Candles across the barn spluttered as though they were made of faulty electric wiring. The floor vibrated and the wooden pillars groaned under the weight of his magic.

Keith’s ears pricked. His hair stood on end. He pooled to his feet and into a defensive stance. “Shiro—”

A window pane cracked beside them. Shiro touched it to repair it, but more cracks spiraled out if he tried. He whipped back to Lance in concern. “Control, Lance…”

Adam and Curtis slipped in from outside. They watched Lance in wide-eyed alarm. The vortex had taken up a light now, as if there was a hole beneath his summoning circle and another world there was illuminated by a blue sun. Fire streaked across the room, joining the vortex or relighting quickly evicted wicks.

Adam ran to Shiro’s side. “Should we stop him?”

Curtis winced, “ _Can_ we?”

“He’s just a powerful human, not a god.” But even Keith said that in a hushed way, because for all of the chaos carrying on around them it was deathly quiet beyond a perennial humming.

And then all of the candles guttered to a stop. The vortex and the moon remained the only sources of light. Lance looked as though he were in pain, back seized, head thrown back, teeth grit, and arms stretched out before him with each tendon on display. It was when he convulsed with his eyes alight with blue fire and bit back a shout that Shiro called it.

“Adam, with me.”

Adam drew his wand from his belt. They held it aloft—

The familiar appeared.

A plume of smoke took over the vortex, blocked out the moon and the ceiling. In the light beneath it appeared a long tail that snapped through the air like a bullwhip. Keith and Curtis held their ears at the horrific _crack_ that dispersed the rest of the windows. A forearm appeared next, drowning in scars and claws. Antlers protruded the inky smoke, ivory white, and fanning around them long, straight platinum hair. The smoke cleared, and a pair of yellow glowing eyes took them in.

Shiro recoiled so violently he landed on his ass.

 _“Galra!”_ Keith screeched.

Adam tossed his wand in elaborate shapes. A blade of wind cut through the air towards the demon’s head. The demon lifted a hand—the spell hit his palm—and although the flesh there immediately burst into gore it quickly regrew into a fist.

Adam gaped.

“Galra _eat magical energy,”_ Keith hissed. “Spells won’t do shit!”

The demon regarded them each a heartbeat more. He took special notice of Shiro, glaze-eyed and frozen to the floor in Keith’s hands. The demon said, “I do not mean you harm.”

Then he turned to Lance.

_“NO!”_

_“Get away from him!”_

Curtis dashed forward.

Their attacks crashed into an invisible, impenetrable barrier. They were not spared another glance as the gargantuan figure bowed over their most vulnerable member. They screamed.

-

Kolivan was _powerful._

He had not answered a summons in centuries. The inert energy beneath his skin could burn through the contracts of most magic users. If he were not careful, he could accidentally burn through magic users themselves.

But not this one.

This one was an inferno onto himself. His potential for wanton destruction was so almost, so nearly there, that Kolivan was surprised to find it was a mortal that had summoned him rather than an Altean or minor god. He bowed over him.

The little witch’s arms were splayed so wide they might pop out of their sockets any moment. Magic tore through him like a deluge. His eyes were bright blue and his voice strangled.

“Pardon me,” Kolivan whispered, and inhaled over Lance’s open mouth. He winced at the initial _blaze_ of arcane energy, but his body was designed for it, and he did not suffer.

No sooner had he ingested the excess energy did the boy came to. He looked even frailer and younger now that he was aware. His legs betrayed him. Kolivan caught him and they slid to their knees together.

Lance coughed. “What,” he cleared his throat. He looked up. His eyes glowed. “Are you…mine?”

Kolivan couldn’t help but smile at his forthright attitude. “No,” he said gently.

Lance squeezed his eyes closed and dropped his head. _“Fuck.”_

Kolivan tilted his head. “You summoned me.”

“I did?” he jerked up. “But you just said—”

“I am not yours. We are not bound.”

“Bound? Oh, you mean the contract?”

“Is that what you call it now? Yes.”

“Would you? That is,” and Lance back tracked, looking down and blushing suddenly. “Uh. Sorry. I didn’t even ask your name.”

Kolivan felt embarrassment and something less negative strumming in the thin thread that tethered them together. It was a spiritual lead that seduced Kolivan to come here. _Amazing,_ he thought. It was amazing that this was a being of such fortitude that simply being _called_ already partially Bound them. “My name for this plane of existence is Kolivan.”

“You have other names?”

“I have one name for each plane of existence,” Kolivan replied patiently.

“Really? How many planes are there?”

“I know of six,” and he smiled and leaned forward a little. “May I know your name?”

“Oh, right! U-uh, Alejandro,” Lance blinked rapidly. “My friends call me Lance.”

“And what would you like me to call you?”

Lance blushed. “Lance.”

Catching the meaning, Kolivan bowed his head and smiled. “Lance, then.”

Lance blushed.

Lance had been anticipating something less…bipedal. Bipedal demons were categorized as the most intelligent among hell’s creatures. They were to their world what humans were to Earth. Shiro and Adam were wicked strong and talented which was why they had enlisted the companionship of fellow _people_ rather than paranormal animals.

Lance, in contrast, had predicted he’d have summoned a hellhound or a bird made out of shadows at best, if for no other reason than because he was very behind in the most basic of techniques.

He hadn’t predicted being served a silver-fox Adonis with horns.

“Have you ever summoned before, Lance?”

Lance shook his head.

“I am your first?” Kolivan’s eyes widened. “You’re strong indeed. I’ve heard trial runs are common.”

Lance’s eyes shifted. “You mean…this _isn’t_ a trial run. This isn’t? You want me? You want me to be your witch?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Lance blinked. Lance narrowed his eyes. _“Why?”_

Kolivan arched a brow. “Because I can tell that we can help each other.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“What answer were you expecting?”

“That you wanted to eat me. Which…is racist now that I think about it oh my god I’m so sorry.”

“Some stories of witches being eaten by the things they summon is true. This is when they have the power to conjure a beast but lack the skill to contain it.” Lance grimaced. “The loss is felt by both the mortal world and our world, as we benefit from having witches among us.”

“What for?”

“We lack humans’… _institutions_. A pack of us is an island at war with the rest of the world. When we grow sick, when we grow hungry, we die. A demon bonded with a human increases our odds of survival because of the power that wards of most threats to our kind.”

“Demons have magic too, don’t they?”

“Our magic is internal and is severely limited.”

“Oh,” Lance moved his expression into genuine heartbreak. “I’m sorry.”

“It is the nature of our world. I did not tell you this for you to Bond with me out of pity.”

“No! No, I asked, and,” he offered his hand. “I’m glad you told me.”

Kolivan took Lance’s hand between his thumb and forefinger, brought it to his lips and kissed his knuckles. He felt a spiral of urgency and alarm and fear and reluctant arousal through their almost-Bond in response to his gesture. Kolivan lifted his head, “Is this not how this is done?”

Winded: “It’s a little archaic but you got the spirit.”

Kolivan offered a bemused smile. Then the smile fell as his eyes flickered.

“What is it?”

Kolivan turned and closed the portal.

“Wait! How will you get home?” More urgently Lance wondered: _How did he do that?_

“I will find a way. Another beast was honing in on our location. They were attracted to your magic.” Kolivan’s gaze flitted over Lance’s body like a butterfly’s wings. “It’s beautiful magic. And as wild as the sea.”

Lance caught himself before he blushed again. “Got a way with words there, heartbreaker.”

“It is the truth.” He saw Lance’s eyes drifting right. Kolivan brought his attention to him again with a forefinger against his cheek. “Lance?”

Pink: “Hm?”

“If you create a Bond—or contract—with me, I will be yours and you mine for as long as our souls align. It is a great commitment, but I am already certain I want you. Desperately.”

Pinker: “Oh.”

“Will you take me as well?”

Lance nodded. “Yes,” he barely whispered.

“Then what must be done?”

Lance brought a knife from his belt. “Uh.”

“A blood pact. That is fine. Do we drink each other’s blood or exchange it through another means?”

“I was taught we cut our palms and shake hands. Is that not okay?”

“It is intimate enough.”

Lance’s hands shook.

“Allow me.” He placed Lance’s knife aside. He positioned his talon over Lance’s open hand. “I will not harm you.”

Lance laughed. “I know.”

Kolivan cut Lance’s skin in a quick slit. Lance jumped more out of surprise than pain. Kolivan did the same to himself. They held hands and Lance felt something trickle into him. It felt like beads of water running down his skin and into his heart. His heart felt heavier as time went on.

“Feelings transference,” Kolivan whispered.

“I feel achy.”

“You will.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What did you mean when you said this was intimate enough?”

“There are many ways to create Bonds—ah, _contracts._ Drinking one another’s blood. Through magic, they might exchange eyes or tongues or hearts or other body parts. A common method is through coitus.”

Lance narrowed his eyes.

Kolivan tried, “Sexual intercourse?”

Lance jerked. “I thought that was just a rumor!”

“It is very real and very effective. To be fair, other methods are far less time consuming.”

Lance chortled. “I think that depends on the partners.”

If Kolivan meant to send him a chiding glance, it was ruined by his half smirk. “The duration does not matter. Kissing is also common.”

A pulse of interest rapidly followed by guilt and self-admonishment flowed to Kolivan through their hands and blood. He was also aware of a persistent loneliness. Kolivan felt a prick of anxiety as Lance in turn felt Kolivan’s emotional reactions.

“What…is that?”

“That is me. What do you feel?”

“Um.” He chuckled, wide-eyed. He pulled his bangs back but they were short and flopped down on his forehead again quickly. “I…I want to call it relief.”

“What else?”

Lance twisted his mouth. “Uh, going out on a limb here: happiness?”

“Yes.”

Lance smiled, stared at their hands. “Will it be like this all the time?”

“I can teach you how to ignore it, but the tether will always be there, yes.”

“Can you…read my thoughts too?”

“No. I can only guess based on our empathy.” His eyes flickered to the edge of the barrier. The witches of the coven had started drawing glyphs to dismantle his magic. They were hoping to act before they completed their contract. He suppressed his irritation.

Lance looked too, drawn by the spike of negative emotion, but he could not see out. Kolivan made it so.

“Where are my friends?”

“They are there,” Kolivan answered honestly. “They are anxious.”

“I can’t hear them.”

“I blocked them out to grant us privacy.” He drew his hand back.

Lance looked down. Kolivan’s blood was blue against his. His cut was gone. He felt a pulse of satisfaction and knew that it wasn’t his own.

“Now that that’s done, I must help you with this.”

“With what?”

“You are burning out, love. I can see it. Taste it—magic is churning through you like an open tap. Let me help you close it. You do not need to be an open conduit anymore. I am here.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh.” Lance smiled and the smile fell and he brought his shoulders up and his shoulders fell. “What should I do?”

“Trust me,” he slipped the first knuckle of his forefinger under Lance’s chin and tipped his head up.

Lance frowned. Confusion spiraled through their Bond— _why would I not trust you?_ Kolivan unintentionally replied in a burst of relief, gratitude and affection. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

-

The barrier fell and Adam and Shiro tensed. Keith and Curtis were behind them, poised to fight, their tails rolling and their fangs and claws free. Keith paced but Curtis was still.

Kolivan looked at the two of them first for a long, long moment. Lance lay limp in his arms. His hat was squashed on his head, pinned between his hair and Kolivan’s chest. He slept easily despite the claws as long as his fingers perilously close to his face and knees.

Kolivan watched each of them and smelled their unspoken hostility. He said softly, “Who is the leader of your pack?”

Keith said, “Let our friend go you fucking parasite.”

“And so the fish accuses the snake of having scales,” Kolivan dismissed. He watched Adam. “If memory serves, it is the humans who lead the packs.”

“I am the leader of our coven,” Shiro was white as he introduced himself. “What have you done to Lance?”

“I came in the stead of the leviathan attracted to his power.”

That gave them pause. A _leviathan!_ Those were colossal—and destructive—beasts, infamously cruel, they were awarded the responsibility of three apocalyptic events in Earth’s history. No mortal was known to Bond with one and live for more than a week and Lance had _summoned_ one! On his first try!

No: he summoned a Galra. While wildly more manageable, a Galra was not a lesser evil. Where there was one there were many, like a nest of rats, and they _ate life._ They sucked vitality right out of the air, even now as Shiro and Adam looked on they felt their throats parch and their hair crackle. Before the end of the month the forest that disguised their coven would be dead.

“You’re not welcome here,” Shiro said with more strength than he felt.

“Shiro,” Adam’s voice broke. “He already formed a contract with Lance.”

Shiro said, _“You are not welcome here!”_

And Keith, fueled by Shiro’s fear and fury hissed, itching to fight.

Kolivan did not pay him a glance. He inclined his head to Shiro: “Then I will go.” He turned on his heel and walked away. The sigils that Lance had painted on the ground evaporated beneath his feet. He reached the door—

Curtis was before him. Kolivan paused.

“You are forgetting something.”

Intrigued, “Am I?”

“Alejandro stays with us.”

“He is my Bonded. Where I go he goes.”

“That is not _your_ decision to make.”

“No, it is his. And he made it.”

“Oh, don’t be _clever_.”

Kolivan narrowed his eyes. “Mind how you speak to me. It is out of respect for Lance that I do not force you aside.”

Keith scoffed, “But you find it okay to threaten us!”

Adam raised his hand. Keith glared at him, and Curtis materialized at his side. Intrigued by the retreat, Kolivan turned his back on the door to face them. Adam came forward. He said, “There’s no helping it. You are Lance’s familiar.”

They each looked at him in outrage. Keith punched his shoulder. “Are you _insane?_ They bring their whole _packs_ into our world like this! The park will be devastated before the next full moon!”

Kolivan said from across the room, “And yet you have been here for how long?”

Shiro snapped, “Stop antagonizing him.”

“I simply make the point of saying that if your familiar is Galra, and he can live here in peace with you, why am I different? Because I lack mortal blood?”

Keith fired, “Shut up.”

Curtis grasped his shoulder. “Easy.”

“Listen to me: my pack do not do what you accuse of me. We do not infiltrate a place for the sole purpose of ravishing it to the ground. We are a society of mutualism. We form Bonds with witches to preserve the longevity of our culture without preying on the vulnerable. The groups you refer to, the Fires of Purification and the Empire, they do not represent all Galra.”

“Pretty words,” Curtis whispered sagely.

Adam agreed. “How can we believe you?”

“Alejandro would not have formed a contract with me otherwise.”

“Alejandro doesn’t know what you are.”

That seemed to give Kolivan pause. His eyes narrowed. He glanced at his Bonded cradled against his chest, drooling now he was so tired. He watched them. “What do you expect of me? To leave? I won’t. We are _Bound_. He is mine and I am his. I mean you no harm, but I cannot do as you ask.”

Keith glanced at Shiro. _And he’s too strong. We couldn’t kick him out if we wanted to._

Shiro ignored Keith’s obvious thoughts. “As his teacher I cannot let this continue.”

Kolivan’s hands curled around Lance protectively. “You mean to sever us.”

“No.”

Kolivan did not relax.

“I need to…speak to him. At length.”

Kolivan did not relax. “He will not wake up for now.”

Keith barked, “And whose fault is that!”

Kolivan answered haughtily, “You would rather his aura had blown this structure to pieces?”

“The guy has a point.” Adam whispered to Shiro, “His lack of control is why Lance needed a familiar in the first place. To temper his power.”

Shiro glared. “But a _Galra?”_

“In a way, isn’t it perfect?” Adam apologized. “Who better to keep Lance’s overabundance of magic in check than a creature designed to eat it?”

Shiro turned away from Adam in a snap. He hated Adam’s logic. His fists shook. He said, “We didn’t catch your name.”

Kolivan’s eyes narrowed. He told them.

“Kolivan. Lance will be safe with us. _I promise you._ But you can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

 _Not safe for whom?_ But Kolivan did not ask that aloud. He inclined his head. “Then I will return in three days. I must put my affairs in order before leaving the pack to devote myself to the cause as Lance’s familiar.”

Keith bit under his breath, “Yeah, go crying to your leader.”

Kolivan smiled. “I am my pack’s leader.” A vengeful corner of his mind savored the shocked expressions on their faces. “Now please, show me the directions to Lance’s sleeping niche.”

-

Lance’s room was on the topmost floor of the ranch house. The ceiling ran up to a peak and he had two skylights. Instead of a bed he had a corner congested with stuffies, pillows, quilts, duvets, pillows, cushions and three sets of fairy lights. Near the skylights he kept plants, and in blank spaces of floor he kept drawings, books, toys, games, boxes of instruments and bottles of gross and spiritual things.

“It looks like a nest,” Kolivan thought aloud.

Adam chuckled, “No, Lance is just messy.”

Behind him Shiro stared silently and Keith mutinously. Curtis lingered in the hallway out of sight.

Kolivan went to the bedstuff and lay Lance down. He asked, “Will the four of you stay there and watch me all night?”

Keith challenged, “Do you intend on staying here all night?”

“Until Lance wakes up, yes.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

Shiro shook his head. “They just completed a contract, Keith. This possessive behavior is normal.”

Kolivan pulled at Lance’s shoes. “You do not need to waste your time putting me under surveillance.” He paused. “Do humans sleep in the nude?”

Adam chirped, “Depends on the human.”

Shiro growled, _“Leave his clothes on.”_

“Very well.” He wrapped the covers around Lance. “Good night, love.” He felt a burst of something small in his chest, affection and contentment, and Kolivan was honored that Lance felt so around him while at his most vulnerable.

“Let them be,” Curtis whispered from the corridor. “Kolivan clearly has no ill will towards Lance.”

Shiro murmured back, “That doesn’t mean he won’t take him when we aren’t looking.”

“I won’t,” Kolivan replied. They jumped, certain they’d been discreet.

“Let them be,” Curtis said again, and reached for Keith. Adam took Shiro’s cold and clammy hand. Kolivan watched the open door until he heard them dissolve into various corners of the house.

Kolivan sat beside Lance’s bed, reflecting for hours. On occasion alarm or intrigue rose and fell in his breast, and he wondered what Lance might have been dreaming about. He let his eyes roam around the room, wondering about his new charge. He was unfamiliar with the written languages of this time and place—in fine, he spoke no human language but when he spoke he was simply understood—so staring at the notes told him nothing. He knew Lance was a competent illustrator and an avid collector of odd things.

When the sun rose, Kolivan was stroking Lance’s hair.

Lance shuffled.

“Good morning love.”

A spark of terror melted into recognition and relief. “Good morning,” Lance replied shyly.

“I have to go,” he whispered.

“Go?” Lance flailed. “Go where? Why?”

“Home. To get my affairs in order.” He cupped Lance’s cheek. “I am not leaving you, love. Of course I will be back.”

Lance felt foolish for doubting it for even a moment. “Be safe,” he murmured.

“Of course, love.” Kolivan pinched Lance’s chin to keep him in place and pressed their lips together. Chaste as it was, delighted surprise and reflex attraction was no secret between them. Kolivan felt it so violently he wondered for a moment if it was his own. “Good-bye, Lance.”

“Bye…Koli,” Lance was blinking the stupor from his eyes. When he got a hold of himself enough to lean on his elbows, only the memory of a demon’s lips lingered.


	2. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan finds Lance again after his impromptu banishment.

Lance planned to descend the stairs in a good mood. He’d summoned a familiar on his first try! Said familiar was not only gargantuan and gorgeous but introspective and kind! He felt energized today, and distantly he could _feel_ that Kolivan felt the same, so he had planned to perform for his coven by sliding down the railing and sweeping into the kitchen with a theatrical _“goooood morning!”_

But that was before he heard the shouting.

_“—blame, Shiro. No-one is.”_

_“And_ you! _How_ could _you?”_

 _“How could I what? Be the only one who actually_ supports _Lance?”_

_“Don’t you dare imply I don’t care about Lance—”_

Curtis whispered, “He’s here.”

Shiro and Adam broke apart from glaring at each other and whipped towards the kitchen door. Lance was partially visible and wide-eyed and white-faced. He fingered the doorframe reluctantly.

“Lance,” Shiro choked up. “I—we didn’t think you’d be up for another few hours.”

Lance took one cautious step in. Keith had taken up residence in the kitchen’s open window as usual, but his face was screwed up like he was planning on jumping through it and into the forest at any moment. Curtis was standing by the stove. His golden scales and dark skin stood out against the baby blue tile backsplash and pink apron. He was preparing a calming herbal tea. Shiro and Adam watched him, half-risen from opposite ends of the square table.

Lance shrugged and grinned reflexively. “What’s up?”

“Lance,” Shiro cleared his throat. “Please. Come sit.”

Lance really did not want to. He sat such that he was facing Curtis but Adam and Shiro were on either side of him. His stomach churned in trepidation. His heart thrummed with a little concern, then a soothing balm of peace washed over him. He sighed and smiled a little. Kolivan was looking out for him even now.

“Where is your familiar?”

“He left,” Lance answered Adam. “He said he had to get his affairs in order, whatever that meant.”

“He’s the leader of his pack. He likely needs to put someone else in power during his initial stay with us.” Curtis placed a sandwich in front of him.

“Thank you. Yeah he said he’d be back in three days.” As he ate, their shouting nagged at his brain. “Umm, so. What was with the fireworks this morning?”

Adam glanced at Shiro. Shiro flexed his hand and grit his teeth. Adam sighed, “Lance, do you know anything about the Galra?”

“They’re a race of bipedal demon,” Lance replied without hesitation. “They feed of arcane energy, like Keith does.”

Shiro looked up sharply. “You knew Keith was Galra?”

“Uhh…?”

_“Answer me!”_

Adam reached his hand over the table to cup it over Shiro’s. He worked himself through his breathing exercises.

Lance was afraid. Adam was always the voice of reason, but Shiro was never the one in need of it. He put down his sandwich tremulously. “I didn’t. ‘Till now.” He glanced at Keith.

Keith didn’t meet his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

Curtis said, “There is a detail to Galra that the textbooks do not describe. There is great prejudice against Galra and people of Galra descent among mortals because we are their perfect prey, and we have been preyed upon by them for centuries. The worst of it came to a close in an awful bombing a few years before you were born.”

“What the fuck, why am I only now hearing about this!?”

“Because Galra don’t exist on our plane of existence anymore.”

Lance pointed at Keith viciously.

Keith groused, “They’re usually shot on sight.”

Lance dropped his finger. He balked for a moment. “So…what, Kolivan can’t live here because he might get killed?”

“Kolivan can’t live here,” Shiro said lowly, “because he will kill you.”

“Psh! No he won’t, he loves me.”

Lance meant it as a jest, but Shiro was not in the mood.

Keith piped up, “He loves the taste of your magic, you mean.”

Lance flushed, “And what, you don’t?”

Keith unfolded his arms. “Excuse me?”

“How did you think I knew you ate energy?”

“This isn’t about me—” but his wide eyes flickered to Shiro and Lance could see what it was. Fear. Lance felt a thrill of evil vindication because he _never_ got Keith afraid.

He carried on: “You think I don’t notice the days I wake up tired after going to bed wired? Or sometimes when you sit in on some of my lessons with Shiro I have more control?”

“Stop,” but Keith wasn’t looking at Lance as he said it.

“Don’t act all high and mighty just because Shiro got a place for you here!”

Keith’s eyes flickered to his coolly. “Like he was _dying_ to give you a place here either.”

Lance recoiled.

“That’s enough,” Shiro spoke gravely. “Both of you. Keith: go to our room. I need to speak with you.”

Keith looked properly terrified at that. He stood and left, but not with exchanging a furious look with Lance.

“Lance.”

Lance was tired and dread to look Shiro in the face. When he did, he looked like his old teacher, but barely kept together. His face was too drawn and his jaw too tight. When he spoke it was above a whisper. “You will terminate your contract with Kolivan.”

Lance felt a flash of hot panic. Eventually he smiled. “Ha. Good one, Shiro.”

Adam winced. He whispered, “He’s not joking, Lance.”

Lance looked between them. “You have to be joking.”

“Lance…”

“Shiro, I summoned Kolivan on my own merit and power he’s _mine._ And he fucking _wants_ me!” He added: “Unlike some people, apparently.”

Curtis frowned.

Adam murmured, “That was uncalled for.”

Lance felt as ashamed as he felt misjudged. “Sorry,” he spat.

Shiro said, “Kolivan is a Galra, a powerful one that was able to keep you away from us and our magic while he forced a contract on you—”

“He didn’t force _anything_ on me—”

“He’s a demon, Lance. He’s manipulative. And the fault was mine for not educating you properly but the last thing I expected you to summon was a Galra—”

“Why do you keep saying it like that! As if Galra is such a bad thing! Kolivan’s a good man!”

“You don’t know them like I do. You don’t know Kolivan, even, for more than a few minutes _how can you know that he’s good for you!”_

_“Because he LISTENS to me! He’s patient with me! He answers me when I ask stupid questions and TALKS TO ME instead of telling me what to do and expecting me to obey—”_

“I tell you what to do because I am your TEACHER. Your mother put you in _my_ charge and you are _my_ responsibility—”

“Only after she begged you. Only after she _begged_. You didn’t want me. _She_ didn’t.”

Adam stood in alarm. “Lance, don’t—”

“Kolivan is the only one who wanted me. Not even despite my power but _because_ of it.”

Shiro threw his arms in the air: “Yes! Exactly! _Because_ of it! _He’s a demon who will eat you alive!”_

“ _THEN I WELCOME IT!”_ and with that Lance turned on his heel and drummed up the stairs and slammed the door and cast seven sigils on it and the windows such that no-one was getting in without either his express permission or until his magic petered out. He ignored their calls, he blocked out the shouting match that occurred between Keith and Shiro shortly after his self-imposed exile.

During his good cry, his room was in disarray. The walls warped, his things flew across the room and broke themselves. The glass panes shivered like water, like they couldn’t decide whether to shatter or crack. The wood aged and de-aged repeatedly turning petrified and green at a moment’s notice. At the edge of his sphere of consciousness he tasted Adam’s magic putting up wards to contain his tantrum and his depressive mind spiraled: _Ah, look at that. Simply containing the situation rather than coming to help. The bare minimum for a barely tolerated coven member._

_Shut up shut up they don’t think that._

_They don’t? And they don’t try to take your familiar from you?_

He felt the cool balm rushing around his heart again. Kolivan’s concern was so real and ready that Lance felt as though he were right beside him. His magic quieted. He knew Kolivan felt it, because a pulse of pride mixed into his empathetic cooing, and Lance blushed and giggled. He covered his face.

“I wish you were here,” he told the destroyed room.

-

“That went well.”

Shiro glared up from his workstation. He was making another book. This manuscript was bound in the skin of a rampaging yupper he encountered in a mission to destroy a Galra den in Laos. He worked with a calmness at odds with his chaotic psychokinetic energy.

“Shiro, talk to me.”

“I’d rather not, thank you.”

“That’s part of the problem, you know. You keep everything bottled up inside you and then it comes out in uncontrolled outbursts like what happened with Lance and Keith.”

“Lance is being unreasonable and Keith had jeopardized Lance’s life _multiple times.”_

“Keith couldn’t eat enough of Lance’s energy to kill him and even if he could he wouldn’t and we _both_ know that.”

“He did it without permission.”

“I admit despite that he had Lance’s best interests at heart that was wrong of him.” Adam sighed. “But I also think…that that proves my point.”

Shiro threw down his awl. “Don’t start that again, Adam.”

“Lance himself said that he noticed he had better control with Keith was mediating his energy.”

“I don’t think _consuming one’s power without permission_ counts as mediating.”

“Lance never stopped him.”

“He didn’t seem happy about it either.”

“He wasn’t happy about anything, this morning.” He dragged up a stool and pointed out, “You told him to sever his contract.”

“And you’re going to tell me I was wrong?”

“Yes.”

Shiro turned away from him.

“Your personal prejudice against the Galra is going to hold Lance back.”

“It’s not prejudice. It’s wariness. I know what they are capable of.”

“Don’t talk as if I didn’t fly beside you. I went in those dens and fought too.”

“And yet you’re so well adjusted.”

“We each heal differently,” and he watched Shiro’s prosthetic. “And we each grow differently. Takashi…you and I know Lance is not going to break his contract.”

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want that Galra bringing his nest here.”

“He won’t.”

“He won’t. He won’t. Like that’s not how the wars of our past were started.”

“Kolivan claimed his people are trying to turn over a new leaf.”

“Claimed.”

“Did you not see the way he cradled Lance?”

“He cares for Lance, that doesn’t mean he cares for humanity.”

“You are very hard to have an argument with.”

“As they say, it’s impossible to win an argument with a stupid person.”

Adam smacked his bicep.

“It’s just a joke.”

“Yes, I remember your dark humor. You used to have our entire unit either in stitches or seconds away from writing their will.”

Shiro at last smirked, and Adam chortled.

Adam sighed. “He’s not going away.”

“Kolivan?”

“Mm.”

Shiro groaned.

“It will be hard. But we’ll be here for you.”

“Adam…maybe…you should take over Lance’s teaching from now on.”

“And contribute to the fissure forming between you and Lance? Absolutely not.”

“I don’t know if I can stomach being around…”

“Kolivan is sentient, in case you’ve forgotten.” Shiro cast him an exhausted glare. “He can be reasoned with, and he would have been in those wars. He was likely there at its inception. Putting parameters in place to make you feel safe are important, if not for you then for Lance’s wellbeing, and I’m certain he will abide for Lance’s sake. And when he returns, all of us can have that discussion and move forward without repeating the past.”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. He gasped a little but Adam pulled him into his arms at the first tear-fall.

“Thank you for being here.”

“Of course,” and he kissed the top of Shiro’s head.

Keith and Curtis stormed in just as they broke apart. “What—”

“Lance is gone.”

“What?”

“Lance is _gone!”_

-

Lance fled to the forest with one backpack to his name.

He would have taken his broom, except his skill at flying had always been mediocre at best, and with his energy levels depleted from the summoning and the overexertion of channeling the ether around him, he likely couldn’t power his broom into flight anyway.

He could barely power his legs.

He was panting twenty minutes in. His fingers stung from where he had almost torn his nails on tree bark. His knitted sweater was tangled with twig and brush. When he finally stopped he was wheezing, and felt alien in his own skin.

Then a cool balm washed over his heart again.

“Thank you.” He straightened. “Okay. I’m coming.”

“Where are you going?”

Lance snapped upright, wand in a defensive posture. (In another life, Shiro might have been proud of his quick reflexes.) Instead of an irate yupper or disgruntled kalternecker, it was Kolivan’s shape moved out of the speckled shadow.

He tilted his head as hello. His hair was braided now and thrown over one shoulder. Instead of the dragging black robes he had worn upon his summoning he was dressed in what Lance was hard-pressed to think of as soft armor: a leather vest cinched at the waist with belts weighed down by bags and tools, shoulder pads, leather gauntlets…only his feet were bare: they were cloven like what one might expect of a robust bull.

Lance was careful not to let his eyes fall to Kolivan’s cleavage twice. He held to the tree like a wounded deer. His weariness made him fearful. He whispered: “Wh-how are you here?”

Kolivan opened his arms in lieu of an answer. Lance perked up, slipped out of his bag and collapsed into his embrace. Kolivan held him so tightly so passionately that, unbidden, Lance burst into tears.

Kolivan let him bawl. When he was finished, he cradled Lance’s cheeks in both hands and rubbed the bottom of his eyes with his thumbs. “Love,” and his eyes glimmered with the same misery Lance felt, “what happened?”

Like so, in broken whispers, Lance told him. His hiccupped badly when he recalled his own feelings of being out of place among the men who were supposed to be his family, and Kolivan quickly soothed his aching heart through their Bond.

“You are wanted,” Kolivan said profoundly. “You are _wanted._ They care for you. I can see it. I can taste it.”

“They don’t act like it.”

Kolivan’s thumb swiped over his bottom lip as he smirked and chided, “You don’t let yourself see it.”

The forest floor, the moss and mushrooms and the root system of a fat tree became their cradle. Lance was at first embarrassed to be lured onto Kolivan’s lap but he was warm and strong and when Lance was brave enough to press his forehead into Kolivan’s clavicle he felt passionate contentment.

The demon was surprisingly tactile. Lance did not complain. He had been embraced more in the wake of Kolivan’s summoning than he had in the ten years working as Shiro’s apprentice.

“Do you intend to hide in the woods forever?”

Lance scowled. “Hey, I wouldn’t be the first. That’s kinda a witch’s MO for the past few centuries, honestly.”

“Mm.”

Lance let himself speak more genuinely. “I just had to get out of that house.”

“Hmm.”

“How _did_ you get here? I thought you couldn’t use external magic like witches can.”

“I can, through you, now, because of our Bond, if limited magics. But portals are beyond by proficiency. I had requested one of the witches in our pack to send me here the moment I felt your distress—”

“Wait, what?” Lance jerked upright. His face was bright with outraged interest. “You have _witches_ in your _demon pack?”_

“Yes,” and Kolivan appraised Lance’s face. He cupped one cheek and casually plucked twigs and dust from his hair. “I had said so before, had I not? My pack thrives by maintaining a mutual relationship with witches in the form of Bonds. Witches benefit from expanding their magical fortitude by using their familiar as a conduit, and demons benefit by having access to a witch’s magic that we use to build our homes, fires, medicines, and technological advancements. The nature of our world is such that it is difficult to found a civilization without external magic to protect us, and very few beings of the demonic specie have that ability.”

Pensive, incredulous and bitter: “Shiro and Adam forgot to mention that part!”

“They can only tell you what they know. And what they know is that people who look like me have hurt them in their past. They’re trying to protect you.”

“You’ve done more for me than they ever had.”

“You speak from a place of anger,” Kolivan admonished with a sweet kiss to his forehead. “You do not mean that.”

Lance ducked his head. His eyes burned.

“Are you ready to go back?”

Lance shook his head.

“Very well. I will wait with you.”

“Didn’t you have things to do back home?”

Kolivan’s eyes narrowed. “It can wait.”

“But—”

“Your distress was _profound,_ Alejandro. I cannot leave you alone in good conscience.”

The burst of loyalty in their hearts made Lance cry all over again. He dropped his head against Kolivan’s bicep and bit his lip.

“Hush,” Kolivan stroked his hair. “I am here.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“Come again?”

Warm embarrassment coated their skins.

Kolivan cajoled Lance into meeting his eyes. “You wish to come with me, love?”

Lance nodded.

“You are more than welcome.”

“Really?”

“Of course. But—now is not the best time.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“This fissure between yourself and your pack—coven, rather—cannot remain.”

Waspishly, “I don’t care! I don’t need them anymore. I have you! And I can find other masters among the witches in your home.”

Kolivan pressed his lips together. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

Lance narrowed his eyes and scrutinized their empathetic connection for the dry taste of sarcasm. He found nothing.

“I admit I am willing to risk the ire of your friends by spiriting you away.” He punctuated that with a caress on Lance’s jaw and a wry grin at the amused twinkle in Lance’s eyes. “But I _will_ return with you here when my affairs are in order. That is my promise to them.”

Lance startled.

“Three days should be enough time for us to be acquainted, for me to show you how my pack functions, and for us to discuss how best to approach them on our return.”

Lance was careful not to let his disappointment show on his face. It made no difference. Kolivan smiled.

“Don’t be so quick to burn bridges, love.”

Lance dropped his head against Kolivan’s clavicle again. It was unyielding thanks to the leather vest. A pang of disgruntlement echoed down their Bond.

“Should I undress?”

Lance blinked. Lance blinked.

“I assume my armor makes this uncomfortable.”

 _Oh._ Lance could _feel_ Kolivan smiling again, this time at his expense. He jumped to his feet and barely stuck the landing. “Sure! Sure, won’t complain! Not that I wasn’t complaining anyway.”

A ripple of amusement that wasn’t his own butted against him like a friendly housecat. Lance still had his back turned when the first clicks of Kolivan undressing reached him and he thought himself silly, so he turned around just as Kolivan was lifting it over his head.

If Lance could personify his new companion in a single word, it would be _control._

He had absolute dominion over his form. He seemed weightless despite his gaudy muscles, and he moved with grace—Lance was immediately reminded of Luis and his days as a ballerina, or Rachel’s gymnastics. Kolivan’s eyes met his. _Right. He can feel me._ And Lance felt a twinge exposed and disquieted.

Kolivan reached out a hand again and Lance curled to fit against his hills and valleys like water. He said, “I get the feeling that you feel more from me than I feel from you.”

Kolivan surprised him by answering in the affirmative. “Though it has been centuries, I have experience shielding my feelings or broadcasting them to the benefit of the being I am Bonded to. I do not mind teaching you, provided it doesn’t interrupt with your coven’s lessons.”

A pulse of bitterness, a dollop of sadness, a burst of resolve, and Lance sat up. “Teach me.”

Kolivan barely disguised his spike of pride and arousal. He let affection bleed through, and quietly delighted in the warm, soft edges of Lance’s broadening smile.

Kolivan was surprised by how rapidly Lance took to his instructions. He never would have expected it of the out-of-control young witch that had summoned him, half-mad on his own power. “That was fast.”

“I’m good at internal magics,” Lance winked and laughed. Kolivan almost dreaded how _distant_ he felt all of a sudden. Lance was disguising something both by deflection and Kolivan’s teachings. “It’s the big magic that I’m shit at, when I have to manipulate the world outside of my body.”

Kolivan nodded. “One of my companions is a polymath fascinated with witch physiology. With your permission, he might volunteer theories that could explain why your magic reacts the way it does.”

“Really? Thank you,” Lance bounced a little on his lap. “That helps a _lot_ actually! Can’t wait!”

“It will have to wait until tomorrow, what with your reserves depleted in summoning me.”

“Really? I feel fine though.”

“A moment ago you had nearly fallen beneath your own weight.”

He blushed. He grumbled in Spanish, “I’d like to see _you_ come out of summoning a god unscathed!”

Kolivan arched a brow.

Lance stared at him. “What.”

“Are you used to people not understanding your First Tongue?”

Lance went bright pink.

“I understand all spoken languages, but I can tell the difference between them,” Kolivan answered the unasked question. “While flattering, I am not a god, love.”

Kolivan’s smile twitched when he felt a strong wave of doubt that was not his own. Lance murmured, “You don’t see yourself like I do.”

“Oh?”

“You’re…really attractive,.” He twiddled with his thumbs and then scoffed and dropped his grin to grunt, “if you’re into big overpowered bara-babes, anyway.”

“Why thank you,” and he pinched Lance’s chin so that their eyes met again. “You’re handsome yourself.”

Pink: “You don’t have to—”

“I literally cannot lie to you. You have my heart.”

Pinker, Lance bit his lip.

Kolivan visibly hesitated. Lance waited, staring with unshielded devotion. “Lance. I need you to understand that while our feelings are independent of the Bond, the Bond does affect us, just as much as sunlight might improve your mood or eating something sour might diminish it.”

Lance frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I adore you. But do not trust this first impression of my feelings for who I will be to you in the future. Our feelings _will_ change.”

Lance shrugged. “That makes sense. I know relationships take work. I figure we’ll disagree and fight sometimes. I look forward to it.” He smiled. “I want to work with you.”

Kolivan abruptly hugged him. Lance squeaked. “I must have done some good in a past life to have been granted you.”

Doubt swelled between them again then was quickly shuttered away.

“You do not believe me? I’ve known you for a very short time, love, but already I can see your courage. Your courage to try in the face of a multitude of failures. You think it a reflection of weakness or incompetence but it is not.”

“…I’m not good at anything.”

“Yes you are. You’re good at knowing yourself and your limits and your interests. That is invaluable in your studies. You do yourself a disservice by admonishing your accomplishments and focusing on your shortcomings. We all have shortcomings, Lance. It does not make you less successful.”

Lance hummed against Kolivan’s breast.

“I realize you do not believe me. That is fine. We have centuries for me to change your mind.”

That woke him. “What? _What! Centuries?!”_

Kolivan tilted his head in question.

“I…I don’t know how to tell you this, but I have an eighty year life expectancy. Ninety, tops.”

“ _Before_ your contract, yes. But now that our souls are knitting together, you will live as long as I do. I have known pairs to live even longer if they conjure a third Bond with another familiar with an even longer lifespan.”

Lance gaped at him.

Kolivan frowned. It bothered him that Lance was so ignorant of so many things. How had he been allowed to summon before being immersed in the theory? Mediocre as his knowledge of magic was, Kolivan knew that this was not the best way to rear a being of such potent energy.

Or maybe, he thought insidiously, it was _because_ of Lance’s power that his education was stunted. Was his ignorance by design?

It took effort to banish the theory from his mind. He squashed his nascent rage. It was unfair to judge the family that had raised Lance, at least not without further knowledge. He kissed Lance’s forehead and stood. “Come. Let’s go home.”

-

Kolivan’s home was a subterranean network of corridors, halls and rooms that were carved out of living rock, illuminated with bioluminescent sea fans and carved crystals, and decorated with tiled floors and polychrome murals.

The main hallway they materialized in was massive, mostly empty, and sparsely busy. It had a domed ceiling through which light shone down.

“Reflected light from the surface,” Kolivan said.

“Surface? The surface of the planet?”

“We are not on Earth,” and Lance frowned in confusion. “The surface of our world was destroyed in warfare pre-dating our written history. All we have left of the event are stories of battles between twins—brothers, in most editions. Some stories think of them as kings or dragons, others as scientists, but the end is the same: their respective demands for absolute control and absolute choice decimated their world. The only way we can survive here is underground, where the severe weather does not impact us. Though…there are some packs that risk life on the surface…”

Lance looked up and the bright light of the dome faded beneath the textured ceiling of a hallway. He had so many questions. For one, this place looked _established._ When Kolivan said “pack” he imagined wolves running free, he imagined maybe tents betraying a semi-nomadic lifestyle, he imagined people sleeping in the same room and eating from the same bowls.

But this place was a _city!_ It had shops, it had bathhouses, it had studios for craftspeople and terraced farms fed by the same bright light via mirrors wrapped around the interior of domes. Kolivan must have taken him along the scenic route because Lance saw enough to justify a functioning, self-supported community and then some.

He murmured in awe, “And you’re the leader of all this?”

“Yes,” Kolivan said as though it were nothing. “It is a group effort, naturally. I am not an absolute authority. But I am the one most defer to.”

“You say it like it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big responsibility,” Kolivan said.

Lance sobered. “And you have to leave it behind for me.”

“Yes. But that is cause for celebration, not concern. I can resume my duties the moment you are deemed a witch competent enough to live on your own. That is,” and he looked at Lance, “if you would still have me. Being tied to my pack might not be what you wanted out of life.”

Lance stared wide-eyed at a pillar three stories tall. There was a whole row of them supporting the massive, craggy unpolished ceiling that screamed _yep, you’re still in a cave!_ “I have time to think about it,” Lance murmured, “but very little beats this.”

Kolivan let his pride pulse between them undisguised.

“Kolivan! You have returned!”

They turned.

Jogging down one of a dozen corridors alive with calls and laughter was the first witch Lance had seen since his arrival. He was an older fellow, short and wiry with a bulbous nose and a bald head, dark skin and exaggerated gestures. “I had predicted a sixty percent chance that you would have returned by now!”

“And the forty percent?”

“Twenty percent you would be back tomorrow with a rocky road milkshake and the other twenty that you would be dead. But thank goodness we don’t live in the reality where Alejandro was named after his mother’s dead twin!”

Lance jerked. “You know my mom?”

Kolivan introduced, “Slav is a witch who specializes in divinations. He predicts futures.”

“Fu- _tures?_ ”

“All futures are real, some are just more real than others!”

Lance squinted. “Right.”

“We should let our leader rest,” a new voice said. Before Lance’s eyes a figure _grew_ out of Slav’s grey shadow and pooled into masculine form. The demon was tall and strapping but a whole head and shoulders shorter than Kolivan, even as he dwarfed Lance and Slav.

“It is no trouble, Sven. This is Lance, with whom I Bonded with last night.” And as he said so, the tail Lance forgot Kolivan had curled possessively over his ankle. Lance didn’t jerk. It was as though his body had anticipated the contact before he did.

“So it is you!” And Sven shook his hand. “A pleasure, Lance. Thank you for choosing our leader.”

“He more chose me, if anything,” Lance replied, charmed.

Kolivan dropped his hand from Lance’s and lightly held him by his nape instead. “We must go. Was there something you needed?”

Slav was ominous, “Do not get used to eating plentifully.”

“I see.” He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“Nice meeting you,” Lance called before he was guided away.

“And you,” Sven waved and smiled. Under his breath he laughed, “I’ve never seen our leader so possessive.”

“I feel sorry for the person who approaches Lance from the wrong angle.”

“What are the odds that Kolivan will have Lance as his mate before the next moon?”

“Bah!” Slav strut away. “If they don’t end up together I’ll eat my left boot!”

“That’s not reassuring. You ate a boot yesterday.”

“I wouldn’t have to if _you_ wore red socks!”

“I don’t wear socks.”

“ _Precisely!”_

Sven collapsed into his shadow with a tired groan.

Lance, well out of earshot, pressed himself under Kolivan’s arm and wrapped an arm around his waist. Kolivan held him unhindered. Lance could feel him taking stunted steps to keep with Lance’s gait. Kolivan’s tail had released him, but occasionally bumped the back of his calves. Through their Bond, their satisfaction from abundant touch was warm.

They were descending stairs now, and it was getting darker without refracted sunlight. The odd crystal or glowing frond cast circles of light every few paces, but Lance found himself jumping at shadows. “How do you see anything down here?”

“Galra can see in the dark. Witches have special contacts that allow them to do the same, though most live in the upper levels in the communal districts. Down here are private residences, eateries, and so on.” His arm slipped around Lance’s shoulder. “Stay close.”

Lance was hardly compelled to leave his side anyway.

He was grateful for the light in the next room. It was a rectangular room with square, tiled pools on either side of a broad walkway down the middle. Some had screens drawn around them, where he could hear splashing or scrubbing or hushed conversations. Rather than the lights coming from above, it radiated from the pools themselves and refracted off the craggy ceiling.

Incredulous, “You’re going to give me a bath?”

Curious, “Do you want me to bathe you?”

Lance squeaked, _“No!”_

Kolivan thought the resounding _fear and panic_ betrayed some deeper emotion or memory charged with revulsion and horror. Much as he didn’t want to, he let it alone. There would be time to learn. He said, “I know that your primary element is water. Soaking in water will help you recover your magic from the ether faster than using me as a conduit, correct?”

“Sounds legit,” Lance nodded. “I never needed water before. To recover, I mean. It usually does on its own.”

“Yes, your power is so robust that it barely needs time to regenerate on your plane. But in this world the ether is of a different quality. I have heard witches complain before that they could not use their magics at all until they were conditioned. If you trust me, I would like to demonstrate.”

Lance frowned, but nodded.

Kolivan let him go.

Lance felt dizzy and nauseous at once. He bent over. His bones felt like Styrofoam and his muscles string cheese. There was an intense pressure on his eyes and eyes, like he was too deep underwater too fast. Just as he thought he would retch, Kolivan’s hand was on his nape again.

“What,” Lance gasped, “what the f—what? _What?”_

“Focus on me,” Kolivan murmured. “Focus on my energy.”

“Are…are you am I regenerating my magic from you?”

“Yes. It’s why you felt stronger in the forest after I found you.”

 _He always had a hand on me,_ Lance thought, save for when he stripped and Lance had a small heart-attack and brief infatuation—(but that could have been anything! That could have been magic withdrawal too!)

_He was only touching me to keep me healthy._

He was abruptly miserable.

Kolivan straightened in alarm. “Love? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s all just…been a lot. Um. I’m really grateful, thanks. Can I go in?”

Kolivan looked mildly hurt for a moment. Lance barely wondered why before Kolivan concealed it. “Sit. I will draw the screen for you.”

“Thank you.” And because he was anticipating it he felt less sick when Kolivan left him.

“I can have clothes prepared for you. After you’re submerged I will leave and be back.”

“Leave?”

“To gather things for you. Do you need help to undress?”

“Undress?”

“To enter the water.”

“C-can’t I wear my clothes in the water?”

Kolivan hesitated.

“I mean, I just need to be submerged, right?”

“That is true, but you asking to wear clothes in the bath is objectively an odd request.”

Lance blushed.

“I do not judge, love. Your shoes as well?”

“No. No,” and he grabbed at them.

“That’s good then.” And he held Lance’s hand, prepared to lead him into the water. “Would you like to wash up at all? I can find soaps for you.”

“Uhm, y’know what? Yeah. Thanks. Ooh. Kinda cold.”

“I can warm it for you—”

“It’s fine. You can stop fussing any moment now.” He grinned at the flash of irritation, indignation and embarrassment that Kolivan let slip.

He was hip deep in the water when he felt hot skin curl under his wrist. He was holding Kolivan’s tail before he registered it. The skin was turgid and coarse and ended in a shape reminiscent of a thresher shark’s tail. It seemed to have a personality all its own as it flexed and played.

Kolivan kneeling drew his attention. “Love?”

“Mm?” and he waded close.

Shockingly, he looked like he was at a loss for words. His tail twitched. Lance paid keener attention to what he said next, fascinated. He felt…indecision, desire—quickly shuttered. Lance blinked at being blocked out.

Something clicked for Kolivan then. He said, “May I…show you how I feel?”

Lance frowned, but nodded.

“Close your eyes.”

He did, and the texture of Kolivan’s tail was sharper in his mind’s eye. Like a tap slowly being turned on emotion infused memories seeped _drip drip drip_ into Lance’s consciousness. He let them come.

Sensations that were ill-fitted against the shapes of his mind flooded into him. There were bad feelings, good feelings, but all of it was intense. Lance had no doubt of their genuine character. What Kolivan was showing him was Kolivan’s Truth.

Lance exhaled, mildly overwhelmed. He felt Kolivan direct his focus as he asked, “Is this how you feel all the time?”

“Yes.”

“You feel so…”

“Much?”

Lance nodded. Kolivan was passionate, an all-or-nothing kind of guy. He was not a perfectionist but he demanded that a job be done and that it be done well. Touching Kolivan’s mind was like touching a patchwork quilt. Experiences over the years had encouraged him to tailor his outlook of the world. He felt, in every way, like a real _self-made man._ Lance felt insignificant beside him.

“You are not,” Kolivan whispered. “I’ve simply had more time to learn twice over the lessons that you’ve yet to encounter. You are not insignificant, you are young.”

Lance blushed. “Sounds a little unfair to me that you weren’t paired with your equal.”

“We are equals.”

So simple. So blunt. But that meant nearly everything to Lance. “What is it that you wanted to show me?”

Kolivan showed him. It was amorphous and the pictures associated with the memory the clearest yet. He saw— _felt_ —himself through Kolivan’s eyes, small and weak in some moments and witty and brave in others. Lance snorted.

“You think too highly of me.”

Doubt flashed between them.

“You have a bruised opinion of yourself, love,” Kolivan muttered. And quietly he wondered if he had the right to help Lance reignite his sense of self-love.

Lance felt it. “What else?”

Kolivan showed him how he was aware that Lance was keeping things from him but how he was firm in his conviction that he was allowed his privacy. They were granted empathy, after all, not telepathy, and he believed that that was by design. Knowing what was in a partner’s mind could do more harm than good. What we think is not who we are. Feelings land closer to the truth, Kolivan thought, but was only useful insofar as their communication was thorough.

Lance drew away, and Kolivan withdrew at once.

Lance held his eyes with his cold hand. “You love me.”

Kolivan’s tail curled around his other wrist. “I do.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know enough to want to know more. I have loved you before I knew you existed, before you were born. I want to help you because you are mine.”

Lance’s eyes were glazed with tears. “ _But you don’t know me.”_

Kolivan only pressed his lips together. His hands twitched with aborted hugs.

“How can you love me, how can you want me so much and want to do things for me so much more than everyone else in my life?”

“That’s not fair,” Kolivan whispered.

“You do not even know what I am.”

Kolivan frowned. “Human. Uniquely powerful, but still mortal, fallible, and lovely.”

Lance glared at him and Kolivan felt his affection and his irritation. An interesting blend.

“I get the feeling that I misinterpreted you.”

“I’m disgusting.”

“Hence the bath?”

“Not like that,” and Lance splashed, even as amusement fought against growing anger and hate. “I…when I was born, the universe put me in the wrong body. I’ve grown up with people trying to…to _help_ me by…doing things that I hated. By showing me…how to be a woman.”

Kolivan’s eyes narrowed.

“I am not a woman.”

Kolivan said softly, “I understand that human beings have a multitude of ways to demonstrate self-expression in relation to other humans and in relation to their own feelings. I will be honest: I have never understood it completely. What I do understand is that whoever you are and whoever you choose to be is _you._ Your mother and your father, however close they are to you, me, however close you and I will become, have no right to tell you otherwise.”

Lance’s mind and heart were oddly quiet as Kolivan spoke, and thrummed pensively when he was finished. Kolivan was alarmed that his witch could be so spiritually _still_ that he was concerned.

Then Lance said: “Do Galra believe in gender?”

“Is this a religion?”

“No, it’s a—”

“I was teasing, love. We enjoy gender expression, yes. But we find the human habit of conferring some genders on some people before they are old enough to decide for themselves very odd. Cruel, at worst.” And he pointedly thought of Lance’s anxiety.

Lance’s eyes fell.

“However you present yourself love, you face no judgement here. If you do, give me names and I will see them escorted to the surface.”

Lance smiled at his response. “You don’t need to be extra for me.”

“Of course I do,” he was almost affronted by the concept of doing less for Lance.

Lance warmed. Then he took a steadying breath and curled his fingers under his clothes.

Kolivan interrupted, “You don’t have to do this now. We have time.”

Lance exhaled shakily. “I want to show you.”

And Lance knew Kolivan wanted to see, if only because he respected how much it meant to Lance. But Lance also wondered if it was his own cloying imagination that seized on the distant trill of excitement at the prospect of Kolivan seeing Lance nude.

He pulled himself free of shirt and binder and breathed and looked up at Kolivan.

Kolivan looked blank but _felt_ so humbled. He offered a hand, palm up, and asked, “Come here?”

Lance waded a little closer, drawn by Kolivan’s tail and voice. A large hand held the back of his head and warm lips—hard with the tusks and fangs behind them—pressed against his forehead. “Thank you, love.”

Lance felt himself crying even though he was the farthest from sad he’d ever been in a long time.

“I am proud of you. What strength you have—and you still wonder why I love you?”

“You’ll change your mind later.”

“I can promise you I will love you differently later. We will be different people then, and that is because we will be teaching each other. But I cannot see myself loving you less.”

 _What would I possibly have to teach a centuries’ old demon?_ But Lance only smiled and tilted his head up to meet Kolivan’s yellow eyes. Even here against the blue glow of the pool they shone from within. “Thanks, Kolivan.”

A spark of impulse later, Kolivan’s mouth was on his own. Lance startled and Kolivan broke away.

“Forgive me, I should have asked first—”

“It’s fine,” Lance blushed and grinned. “It’s not the first time, is it.”

“No. But then was a matter of necessity. Now, was because I wanted to. And I should have asked.”

“O-oh.”

“I did not mean to violate your trust.”

“You didn’t. I don’t mind. You can do it again if you want.”

Kolivan watched him. “And what do _you_ want?”

Lance’s blood ran hot with arousal. He flicked his thumb over Kolivan’s tail and arched his body deeper into the gargantuan demon’s space.

He whispered, “Kiss me. Please.”


	3. Reasons Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Kolivan deepen their Bond before returning to the Shirogane Coven.

He was not imagining Kolivan’s interest.

Kolivan _was_ attracted to him. It was mostly composed of a chain of impulses corralled by ongoing self-critique. But it _was_ there, it _was_ real, and Lance was in awe and giddy and implacably happy.

Kolivan fed off that happiness in turn, occasionally rumbling and glancing at Lance at a burst of new affection. He never replied to it. He made an effort not to answer Lance’s feelings, but instead his words.

At the thought, a new burst of affection left Lance, and this time he felt Kolivan smile.

They were screened off from the rest of the world in Kolivan’s nest. These Galra did not have private bedrooms. In a dim corridor there were narrow stairs or ramps or ladders that led to niches where families slept together. Lance had gotten a glimpse of one or two on the way to Kolivan’s: some were decorated with lamps and trinkets, others had plants, and others still were stuffed with magical paraphernalia. Some were sparsely furnished and only had a tangle of limbs and snores to their names.

Kolivan’s nest was deeper than most, outfitted with more pillows, futons and blankets than Lance thought he had business having, and it had a loft decorated with more personal items: weapons, manuscripts, clothes.

“It’s big,” Lance had said.

“It was a family nest. Before my children left, my spouse and I would sleep with them here.”

Lance froze a little. “I…didn’t know you were married.”

“I was. Several times.” He paused in thought. “Do you come from a monogamous culture, Lance?”

“Uh…when people marry they usually marry for life, if that’s what you mean. I mean, there are a lot of divorces too. One of my sisters was divorced.”

“In our culture, marriage contracts last an average of five years. It is an agreement to join hands for the benefit of shared spoils, shared property, and the right to reproduce.”

“You’re not allowed to reproduce outside of marriage?”

Kolivan shook his head. “No. We are physically unable to, without going to a surgeon with proof of marriage to enable it.”

“That’s…I can’t tell if that’s cruel or not.”

“Everyone has the right to have a child. But the child has the right to a stable home. A marriage contract enables that home for their most vulnerable years.”

“Five years is enough?”

“At age six they are absorbed into our schools where teachers take over the majority of their rearing. Many children still stay with their biological parents, sometimes for life. My youngest daughter still lives with me. At the moment she is married and has her own nest she shares with her spouse and children.”

“O-oh. Uh. She wouldn’t mind that I, uhm.”

“Live with me? She would not. You are considered a blessing to our people.”

“Me?”

“Witches in general, but you in particular because I deem it so.”

Lance chuckled. “Stop flirting with me.”

Kolivan smiled. “No.”

Lance scrunched his nose up, rubbing his face in Kolivan’s chest. He was wearing soft, loose robes now. It left little to the imagination: sheer and satin, it rippled over Kolivan’s bulbous curves like mercury. Lance traced his shape with furtive eyes. Though he was lying on Kolivan’s chest—and his chest hair smelled so earthy, vaguely musky, warm and powdery—he didn’t touch more than where his hands naturally fell.

Kolivan’s hands were on his back, one stroking his spine as one might stroke a cat. His tail had reclaimed residence over Lance’s ankle. Lance found that he rather liked basking in Kolivan’s capture.

With his heart thundering as he approached intimate territory he ventured, “You’re really touchy-feely for a demon.”

Kolivan’s voice took on a conspiring tone. “I will be honest. I like the texture of your skin and hair.”

Lance chortled.

“It is unusual to me. Your skin is soft and gives beneath the pressure of my hands but springs back into shape immediately.”

“Yours doesn’t?” he poked experimentally. Kolivan’s skin _did_ give, but there was resistance the first time and the second time Lance’s finger didn’t cause an indent at all, as if Kolivan had flexed a muscle, but Lance could feel that he hadn’t. “Oh.”

“In addition, our sense of touch is not as evenly dispersed as yours. Only certain areas are hypersensitive.”

“Which areas?”

Kolivan looked down his nose and arched a brow.

Lance blushed and shrank. “Sorry. Was…that an inappropriate question?”

“It can be. This reminds me to teach you more about our people. But there is time. To answer your question: it changes from person to person, and usually only one’s mate is made aware, and family by virtue of proximity.”

“Oh.”

Kolivan tasted his disappointment and shame. “Because of our Bond, you are my family, so I will tell you.”

“Oh? B-but, I’m not…”

“My intended?”

“Well.”

“You are my family. I will tell you if you want to know.”

Lance nodded.

Kolivan arched his brow again. “Words, love.”

“I’d like to know, please and thank you,” Lance popped a leg for extra emphasis and perked up when Kolivan rumbled with laughter.

“Very well. My sensitive areas are the front of my neck, my lower back above my tail—which is fairly common, I’ve heard—my solar plexus, the back of my knees, the insides of my thighs and the bottom of my feet before the hoof.”

 _“Oh._ Doesn’t that get in the way of walking?”

“I usually wrap it.” And he shifted his feet and his eyes fluttered shut.

“What…does it feel like?”

“It…” and he glared at Lance.

Lance perked up. “What?”

“You must promise to keep your hands to yourself when I tell you.”

“It tickles doesn’t it.”

Kolivan grimaced.

Lance smiled suggestively and wriggled an eyebrow. “Noted,” he drawled.

“I should not have told you.”

“Boo! Don’t be like that.” and he threw his arms around Kolivan’s neck and laughed.

Kolivan touched one of his wrists in a delicate pinch. “And sometimes…it arouses.”

Lance froze, then recoiled. “Oh shit. Kolivan I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t,” and he slipped his broad hand into the small of Lance’s back, persuading him to lie down again. “I promise. Please?”

Embarrassment and curiosity flowered in Lance’s breast as he lay down again, his ear solidly over Kolivan’s heart. It was dampened by Kolivan’s claws raking delicately through his hair. Kolivan’s hands were big enough to wrap around Lance’s entire head. The dead weight of it could keep him pinned easily. Yet Lance saw it fly over him and thought: how light it is, how articulate, how gentle.

“Lance, may I ask you a question about your family?” Lance tensed in dread. “It’s fine if you’d rather not talk about them.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Uh.” And he shuffled into Kolivan’s embrace a little. “What do you want to know?”

“When you speak of them, it’s obvious that you care for them deeply, but I also taste resentment. What happened?”

Lance smiled. It did not meet his eyes. “You remember how I was when I summoned you?”

Kolivan nodded. He had been forced to siphon off some of Lance’s power or risk bearing witness to the witch collapsing from exhaustion, overwhelmed by his own spirit. “What of it?”

“That’s what I’m like when I’m _in_ control.”

Kolivan frowned.

“Yeah. Shiro really worked on me. I use to be much worse. I used to set fire to my bed in my sleep or shatter mirrors and windows when I got angry. I couldn’t help it. When I was with my family I was responsible for my grandmother coming back from the dead and the destruction of two schools. The non-magical half of the family started calling me the antichrist. The other half dumped me on Shiro’s coven.”

Kolivan turned over his choice of phrase.

“And,” Lance giggled, “I can laugh at it now. I remember, I was twelve thirteen and…I was talking with some of the entities in my room and my brother was so scared he went to sleep with our dad, and…anyway, one of the entities said there was something interesting happening downstairs so I followed it and I heard my mom on the phone. She was talking to Shiro—I don’t know how she got his contact because he fell off the grid _years_ ago—and she was begging him to take me on as an apprentice, because the Garrison started paying attention to me and they wanted to draft me into their curriculum which is just, chock full of horror stories, and my mom didn’t want that for me. And—and I can laugh at it now—Shiro said no. Ha. Said no, he can’t take me on. I’d burn down his house in the first week. I almost did, actually. Adam had to put wards up until I got control of my nocturnal emissions. Ha.”

Kolivan’s rough thumbs swiped at Lance’s cheeks. Lance sniffed, still smiling, still crying. Kolivan asked if he hated his family.

“No.” He shook his head. “No. They tried to do the best for me. They sent me away because they couldn’t help me. I’m grateful. But I…I want something to hate for taking them from me.”

“And you chose to hate yourself.”

“Well. Who else can I blame?”

“You do yourself a disservice thinking of your power as a curse.”

“Well it sure as fuck isn’t a blessing!”

“It is. And I will prove that to you soon.”

Lance pouted from where his face was squished between Kolivan’s hands.

“Tell me about your coven.”

“Uh, well, to be honest I didn’t know anything about Shiro until he eventually let me into his home. I think his element is of the sky, but he has a connection to fire like me. Fire’s his secondary element. But he’s good at all magic, he’s practically a master. I really look up to him. Keith’s his familiar. He has a tail.”

Kolivan smiled. “Quite the disparity in how you describe them. Do you not like Keith?”

“He’s alright. He’s like the brother who was never scared of me. We fight a lot. We’re friends. Sometimes it feels like…he just tolerates me—”

“None of that. What about the others?”

“Adam’s Shiro’s husband. Or they’re together, somehow. They’re on and off. His elements are earth and water, and he teaches me the small magics so we spend a lot of time in his workshop. Curtis is his familiar. I was never sure what kind of demon Curtis was.”

“Air selkie.”

“A what?”

“He is an air selkie. A creature able to change forms between humanoid and ethereal: smoke, fog, wind. Some give up their physical forms altogether and become the air itself, sacrificing their sapience for ultimate freedom.”

“Wow.”

“Mm.” And he stroked Lance’s hair some more. “I can tell you care for them.”

“…yes.”

“Why are you afraid of being truthful with them?”

“…about what?”

“About your fears. You think they will evict you at a moment’s notice, don’t you. Especially now more than ever, because of me.”

“No I don’t.”

It was not lost on either of them that it was a blatant lie. They didn’t need the Bond to tell.

Lance amended, “They wanted me to sever our contract.”

Dread and rage and horror swelled in Kolivan. “Was this why you left?”

“Yes. I couldn’t…I wouldn’t. I want you.”

Kolivan was charmed and relieved, but the sentiment was ruined by an undercurrent of concern. “Running away solves nothing.”

Lance didn’t answer.

Kolivan put that aside for now. “How do you feel? Your energy?”

“It’s good. I feel good. Hugging helps.”

“Happy to hear that.”

Lance rubbed his cheek in Kolivan’s chest hair and sighed in thought. Comfortable as he felt, loved as he felt, Lance couldn’t understand how Kolivan wanted him so much. He shifted.

“I can feel you want to ask something.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Ask.” He stroked Lance’s back. “There is no judgement here.”

“Are you…currently married?”

“No. My last marriage contract was decades ago. His name is Antok. He is my second and a very good friend. We have three children together, each from separate marriage contracts.”

“O-oh.”

“Ask, love,” Kolivan soothed. “I can feel you have even more questions now.”

“Uh, yeah. Um. Why don’t you just…stay married, if you like this Antok guy so much?”

“It is not our way. And much as I adore Antok, I could not live with him indefinitely.”

“What, he leaves his socks on the dinner table or something?”

Kolivan smiled wryly. “Or something.”

“Uh. You find it hard to live with other people, then?”

“You are asking if I will find it hard to live with you?”

Lance nodded shyly. “Mhm.”

Kolivan petted him. “I will make an effort, but I would be surprised if we will always be living together. You’re very attractive and likeable, and probably will have more marriage contracts than you’d know what to do with in the near future.”

A spiral of interest seized Lance’s heart. “ _Oh._ Uh. And you…wouldn’t mind?”

“Polyamory and polygamy are the norm among us. And it is not my duty to police you and whomever you might cultivate a relationship with.”

“Oh.”

“You seem disappointed.”

“No! No.”

“I’ve noticed,” and he looked down at Lance again, “that you enjoy when I articulate how much I want you.”

Lance pinked.

“I’m sorry that the concept of being loved is so foreign to you that you hunger for it. I will say that you are mine as often as you need to hear it.”

Lance curled into his shoulders. “O-oh. Thank you.”

“May I kiss you, love?”

Lance bit his lip before summoning his courage and looking up. “Yes,” he gasped. Kolivan’s hands braced either side of his head and his fingers laced over his nape. Then he was brought a little higher and Kolivan dipped his chin into his neck and their lips met.

Kolivan tilted his head after one roll of their lips and pressed Lance closer to him. Lance whined in surprise, one hand came up to brace himself, and it cupped over the rise of his right pectoral. The other loosely held Kolivan’s wrist as he drowned in movement. He never knew kisses could be so kind, so magnetic. Something metaphysical was popping in the back of his mind and he thought… _oh, is that what they mean by fireworks?_

Kolivan broke apart to whisper, “Love, you’re on fire.”

“What? _What?”_

So he was. Lance’s skin had heated his borrowed clothes. He felt ashamed and new as he willed them away, even as Kolivan laughed.

“You enjoyed that then.”

He patted himself down. “Only a little,” he played.

Kolivan chuckled.

“Sorry.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“I kinda don’t want to burn your home down to rubble, so, maybe we should just turn in.”

“Hm. I am not easily hurt by fire.”

“Yeah. Well. Your clothes are.”

“I see. Sit aside, please love?”

Lance was confused as he did so. He sunk into the soft bed stuff and watched Kolivan sit up.

Kolivan was so _big._ When they stood, the top of Lance’s head hit the bottom of Kolivan’s pecs and Lance’s thighs could fit into Kolivan’s thrice. He was all marble and muscle and stripped with the grace of—

Lance salivated. “Why are you taking off your clothes?”

“My skin is fireproof. My clothes are not.”

“Right.”

“You too.”

“What?”

“With your permission, I would like to kiss you again. With your permission, I would like to take your clothes off such that we do not die of smoke inhalation.”

Lance chortled. “I can take it off myself.”

“No, please.” And he shifted forward. “May I?”

Lance dropped his hands from the front of the nightgown and nodded.

Kolivan shifted forward again, pressed his lips to Lance’s temple, and hooked one claw under the first knot that tied Lance’s gown together. Lance exhaled, lost in Kolivan’s shadow and caress. He noticed, as Kolivan’s nose dragged down down down to the hollow of his throat, Kolivan had no stubble. He touched his broad cheek and jaw, curious. Their eyes met, and Kolivan slid his hot hot black tongue between Lance’s lips.

Lance flinched, and Kolivan paused to determine it was not from alarm. At Lance’s unspoken renewed enthusiasm, he slipped the material off one broad, boyish shoulder and then the other.

“What a pretty pattern,” Kolivan thought aloud. He ran his index finger over the dash of freckles on his shoulders.

Lance exhaled, growing hotter by the minute. His forehead was pressed to Kolivan forehead. A partly invisible flame was licking at his hair. “I don’t like them.”

“I will like them for you,” and Kolivan raked his tongue over them. Lance was unsure if the resulting arousal was his own. It didn’t matter. He felt himself getting wet.

By coincidence, his eyes fell to Kolivan’s groin. They were mostly in darkness, what light there was was supplied by tiny patches of moss glowing overhead that only cast light on their outlines. The censorship of Kolivan’s penis likely enhanced his arousal anyway, because he could see it _quake_. It was a strange and delicious shape, tapered and fat and a knot at the base pulsing over tight, quivering balls. Kolivan’s pubic hair was as white as his braid. Lance itched to touch it.

He looked away, embarrassed instead.

Kolivan drew upright and took his little love’s face in his hands. “There is no place for that feeling here,” he said huskily. “Talk to me. Why do you feel shame?”

Lance’s lashes fluttered. “I…I’ve never. I’m.”

“Inexperienced?”

“ _So_ inexperienced,” he choked out. “You’re my first kiss.”

“Am I?” but rather than delight, Kolivan’s expression steeled. “Forgive me. I should have known better, paced this better.”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t like,” Lance protested. “I like this. I wanted this.”

“I know. But I do not want to make choices for you because you do not know better, inadvertently or otherwise. Come,” and he lay on his back again, “lie on me. Let us chat about what you like. Get used to your nudity and mine. I am proud of you for telling me, and for coming this far with me. But do not supersede our pleasure for your comfort.”

Lance nodded, feeling between chagrined and adored.

Kolivan kissed him again a little more untamed than previously and Lance forgot to feel anything else but greed for Kolivan and all he had to offer. He burst into flame and could see his demon’s proud smile in the new source of light.

“Now then,” and Kolivan pretended he didn’t have a raging boner, “let us chat.”

-

Ulaz was the surgeon Kolivan had mentioned. He was albino, sported long lean limbs, and had an articulate, throaty way of speaking that made Lance want to watch his own words around him. He was not unkind but he did not smile. Whenever Lance was disgruntled by that fact, Kolivan’s perennial presence in the back of his mind reassured him with a wash of cool calmness.

“You do not need to be so cautious. This is a safe space.”

“Cautious? I’m not cautious. _You’re_ cautious.”

“You’re sitting in the corner of the bed with your knees pulled to your chest,” Ulaz replied.

Lance mimed his words from his corner with a sneer. “Maybe I _like_ corners.”

At last, Ulaz smiled at him. “Whatever makes you comfortable. I would like permission to look at your living energy.” He pulled a contraption from a ceiling. It looked like a series of circular lenses of different sizes and thickness that switched into and out of place in front of Ulaz’s face depending on what levers he yanked.

“What does that mean?”

“You are aware of your living energy, yes? Perhaps you know it as quintessence, chakra, or the soul? It is an energy, no different from the heat of stars or the moving particles that power human contraptions, but its constitution is unique to living things.”

Lance nodded.

“In witches, additional quintessence is produced by a specialized organ behind the stomach. This is what they use to create spells.”

“Yeah, the second heart.”

Ulaz nodded, put another lens in place and walked closer to Lance with it. The entire machine was quiet as it slid along the grooves in the ceiling. “This machine helps me see your second heart. From there I can understand your unusual strength. That is, if you will allow me to see it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Consent given. Should I lift up my shirt or something?”

“No need. I was told that you would feel more comfortable remaining clothed, yes?”

Lance nodded and sent a pulse of gratitude Kolivan’s way. It was returned with a spiritual caress.

“Very good. All I ask is that you put both arms in the air—yes, like so. Hold it and breathe normally please.” And he held the composite lenses up to his face and peered into Lance’s ribcage.

It took a shorter amount of time than Lance was expecting. Ulaz asked him to cast benign spells—sparks came to life at the edges of his fingers—and watched the magic in his body react, and then he was stuffing all the apparatus into its niche in the ceiling again and making hasty notes in a hand-bound manuscript. The pen continued writing even after Ulaz released it.

Lance chuckled skeptically. “Uh. So. Am I diseased or what?”

“On the contrary,” Ulaz finally looked at him. “You are in the peak of health. There is no sign of negative energy buildup, which can happen when a witch doesn’t expel their magic regularly, although that might be because you do not have a second heart to produce magic at all why you are clean of what would plague most mortal magic-users.”

“What? _What!_ What do you _mean_ I don’t have a—I’m a witch! I can use magic! I set Kolivan on fire last night!”

Ulaz popped a curious brow. Lance pinked, but stayed surprised. He insisted: “I can use magic.”

“That you can. But you do not _produce it._ Rather, your soul is of a unique shape that can connect with the magical energy in the very air. It is as though you are both the wand and the will that uses it. Put another way: instead of a second heart producing magic for you to use, the _world_ is your source of magic.”

Lance frowned. “But…but yesterday, after summoning Kolivan, I was tired. I could barely stand. Something in me had to be replenished.”

“Yes, well, you _do_ have a soul. And as I said before the soul _is_ energy. It is no different than running a long time and finding yourself out of breath and in need to recuperate. Witches conventionally have more of it, but you differ from most in that your soul is a unique shape to channel raw ether into your body for your consumption. Channeling a lot of energy will inevitably take a toll on your soul and body: you are not immortal. In fact, it is completely possible for you to channel far too much energy that your will can manage but your soul and body cannot. You must keep this in mind for the future.”

“Okay,” and Lance’s thoughts were spinning faster than he could catch a hold of them. In the back of his mind Kolivan offered a hand to hold. He threaded his metaphysical fingers through his. “Okay,” and he stabilized. “Okay, so I am like…all of me is like a second heart.”

“No: you do not produce magic, you channel it out of the plane of existence.”

“So…all of me is like a wand to direct magic.”

“Your soul, specifically.”

“And this is…rare?”

“I’ve never seen this condition before with my own eyes, but I have read of the rare cases.”

“So there are other people like me out there?”

“There have been. We have documentation of it. Usually these types of witches can level mountains, erect cities, thwart the mightiest of beasts: weblums and leviathans have been downed by heartless witches.”

“Ha. That’s a cool name. Heartless witches. Like a punk rock band.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Nothing.” He smiled, then curled his knees to his chest again. “Is that why I can’t control it? Because the power isn’t in me?”

“I do not know. But I theorize that you have difficulty controlling it because you are being educated as if your source of power is inside your body rather than outside of it. For example, I know of one lesson that Slav has for younger witches is to hold their power in themselves, feel it, and let it out in controlled bursts.”

Lance nodded. “Shiro taught me that within a week of meeting him. I’m still shit at it.”

“Of course you are. You are one man, Alejandro. You cannot control the _world.”_

Lance blinked. His lips parted in comprehension. He grabbed his hair. “Holy shit.”

Ulaz smiled in amusement.

“Holy _shit_ I have access to the world wide web of chakra!”

Ulaz popped another brow. “Now that that’s settled…”

“Are we really moving on like I don’t have _literally unlimited power?”_

“Well, to be fair, it doesn’t mean much when you can’t use it, does it?”

“Ouch.”

“Which is why I would like to refer you to one of our witches who is more qualified than I to teach you control. Lotor is a half-Galra: his mother was a powerful magic-user of a race known as Alteans.”

Lance sobered in surprise. “The direct descendants of the Ancients.”

Ulaz nodded sagely.

“I didn’t know they still existed.”

“They are few and far in between and most avoid human planes of existence. But—”

“Wait, _planes?_ As in humans live in more than one world??”

“Well. You’re _here,_ aren’t you?”

Lance sat, stunned.

“Lotor is a being of immense power. Unlike you he has a second heart, but he wields more energy than that second heart ought to allow him to. He’s studied magic for ten thousand years. I can’t think of a better teacher.”

“Ten thousand—wha— _oh.”_

“He’s older than all of us. Kolivan himself is only eight hundred years.”

“O-oh. What’s the average lifespan of a Galra?”

Ulaz’s eyes narrowed. “Physically speaking, we can live for thousands of years, as Lotor has. But we are often struck down by disease or injury before we can. The oldest woman I’ve known lived for two thousand years.” He nodded. “With this safe haven that Kolivan has made for us, life expectancy has leapt to new heights.” He smiled coyly. “You have years with Kolivan left yet.”

Lance blushed and felt found out.

“Shall I arrange a meeting with Lotor for you?”

“Oh, uh. I dunno. I already have a teacher.”

Ulaz said nothing, though skepticism flashed over his features. “Very well. Is there anything else you would like me to check for you?”

“Um,” Lance rubbed his belly. “Uh. Well. Um.”

Ulaz clasped his hands in front of him. He repeated softly, “This is a safe space.”

Lance reflexively smiled and scratched the back of his head. “Uhm. Well…Kolivan told me that you guys don’t think of…gender and sex the way we do and…”

Ulaz nodded. “I am familiar with the continuums humans use to identify themselves on sex, sexuality and gender. Would you like to discuss that?”

“You’re…are you familiar with ftm?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Lance nodded. “Uh. That’s me.”

“I understand. Did you have a specific query or concern?”

“Um. Well. I was just. Uh. Kolivan—” and he blushed. “I dunno how to say this.”

Ulaz nodded. “Take your time.”

“I…umm…I’m not… _on_ anything.”

“Are you referring to hormone treatment or birth control?”

Lance blinked and looked up at Ulaz in surprise. “Both, actually.”

“We have access to both, here, in both mundane and mystical forms.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “The Galra did not have a name for what you consider transsexuals because children decide how they wish to present as they advance through puberty on their own. As they near adulthood their choices of how to address their body in accordance to how they feel broadens. Sexual medicine is one of our most advanced fields.”

“Wow.”

“I am the same as you, ftm that is. I went through what you refer to as _transitioning_ when I completed my first century.” He rolled up a sleeve. An intricate tattoo lay against his bicep, a washed out black. “I need to renew it every decade, but this magic seal produces the Galra equivalent of testosterone, a hormone he called,” and he said something that Lance knew he’d have difficult echoing.

Lance swallowed. “Oh.”

“We have similar technologies in place for birth control, albeit birth control is managed by the community instead of the individual.”

“What do you mean?”

“Galra who are capable of insemination undergo a process that bars them from having children outside of wedlock. Unless they are in a marriage contract and sanctioned to have a child, people who have sperm are temporarily infertile. At the same time, we do have access to medication—mystical and otherwise—that you can use at your personal discretion. I can walk you through the options if you like.”

“Maybe later,” and Lance hopped down and slipped his hands into his pockets.

Again he was in borrowed clothes. His trousers were dark blue, loose and tied off at his narrow waist. His black shirt was form fitting, brought emphasis to his shoulders broadened from years of swimming in the Shirogane rivers and covered his skin to his knuckles. He felt naked without his hat, which was more for aesthetic than anything else, but the predominant fashion among Kolivan’s people seemed to be hoods anyway.

“Thanks, Ulaz.”

“Of course, Alejandro. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask.”

Lance beamed and left.

Ulaz’s clinic was on the main byway of a route in the nest’s upper levels. He was grateful for access to sunlight again, however refracted, because it meant more green vegetation than alien glowing mushrooms.

He looked around and thought, _This place is not friends with cars_. The most anyone used were elevators that plunged into the planet.

Lance looked up at the craggy, distant ceiling that housed this hidden city and wondered what the surface looked like. He wondered what this place started like. The air was arid and smelled of dust and animal thanks to the nearby market. In a displaced way, it reminded him of home.

He wondered what home looked like.

Was he missed?

Lance shook off the sentiment and walked down the road. He didn’t question how his feet knew to turn here and board there. When he was roaming the darker—but no less busy—massive halls again he came to the conclusion that it was Kolivan calling him, leading him.

And it was.

Kolivan stood in a small council discussing quietly and feverishly in a laboratory that was growing seedlings. There were three figures with him, two men and a woman, and they were speaking in a harsh language Lance didn’t understand. He watched from the doorway, mostly hidden, but the woman’s eyes picked up on him first and she stopped speaking mid-sentence.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He ducked.

She smiled and lightly elbowed Kolivan. He turned and looked surprised. “How did you find this place, love?”

“Uh,” and he stepped out of the shadow and towards Kolivan’s outstretched hand. “Didn’t you call me?”

“Call you?”

The larger man folded his arms and chuckled. He had deep scars over his face that twisted his mouth into a scowl and permanently left his right tusks on display, but something about his eyes seemed jovial. “Your Bond is developing quickly if he is able to traverse this labyrinth mostly blind.”

Kolivan hummed. “Lance, allow me to introduce Antok, Thace and Krolia. Antok is my good friend and second, Thace Ulaz’s husband and Antok’s eldest son, and Krolia my daughter of my second marriage contract.”

Lance jumped. “Oh. Nice to meet you.”

Krolia smiled as she shook his hand. “An honor.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day our leader found a witch,” Antok pressed his hand to Lance’s shoulder as greeting. “Thank you for choosing him.”

“He chose me, if anything.”

“And humble too,” Thace smiled at Kolivan. “Be careful. I might steal him away.”

Kolivan arched a brow. “If you wish to be reacquainted with the surface, you mean.”

They laughed.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Krolia replied. “Though you might find our topics of conversation boring.”

Thace made an offended sound. “Discussing the expeditions to expand our colony is _far_ from dull!”

“And yet,” Antok ribbed, “you have a talent for making it so.”

Thace hissed something in Galra.

“You are welcome to say,” Kolivan whispered as they laughed again. “But I may be here a while.”

“Oh, uh. Okay. If you could point me in the direction of lunch I’d be grateful.”

“Mm,” and his tail licked at Lance’s ankle in greeting. He said to his family, “I’m going on a lunch break.”

Thace squeaked, “But we haven’t concluded what to do about the natural gas—”

“I trust your judgement. Let’s go, Lance.”

Krolia laughed at her brother’s expression.

“I didn’t mean to steal you,” Lance muttered, dripping with embarrassment.

“Nonsense. Thace is a brilliant strategist and problem solver who was recently promoted. He lacks faith in himself sometimes. Foisting responsibility on him is my and Antok’s way of saying we trust him.”

“Oh.”

“And if feeding my witch gets me out of work, I won’t complain.”

Lance cackled. “And here I thought you were the responsible leader of your people!”

“Responsible leaders have off days. At any rate, I have a responsibility to you as well. There is no need to sacrifice one for the other when the people in my company are each leaders in their own right.”

Lance forgot when Kolivan took his hand. They were ascending a stairwell. The void was beneath, above and beside them, but everywhere was the perennial sound of laughter or conversation. “I like it here,” he breathed. “Everyone’s family.”

“We are. We started as a handful of families and gradually expanded into what you see today. It was a hard and long road.”

“Were you the leader for all of that time?”

“No. In the beginning it was a woman named Marmora who led us into these caves. She passed the baton to me two hundred years ago.” He frowned. “It was my idea to incorporate willing witches into our nest. She was vehemently against it in the beginning, especially because we were still at war with the human race.”

“But it paid off in the end, didn’t it?”

“I like to think so. Much that we have we wouldn’t have had without external magic.” He sat Lance down in a massive cafeteria.

Orbs of light bobbed at the ceiling between painted pillars as though they were buoys at sea. Long tables with long backless benches created busy rows and columns. The air was alive with conversation and good food. Sunlight canted through narrow windows high high above.

“Do you have allergies or preferences, love?”

“Um, not really? I really like that roast worm thing from this morning.”

“I’ll see if there’s any left,” and he lightly kissed Lance on the mouth as a brief farewell.

Lance was still swooning a little bit when company joined him.

This stranger was tall and skinny and had a tail longer and thicker than Kolivan’s. He didn’t have antlers as Kolivan did—he only saw that Krolia did, and made note that maybe having a tail didn’t mean one had antlers—but he was as scarred up in the face as Antok was, putting mean teeth on display.

Lance swallowed his reflex concern. Exposed gums were a new norm for him. “Hi.”

“Hello. I’m Regris.”

“I’m Alejandro.”

“I’ve heard our leader call me Lance.”

“My friends call me Lance.”

“I look forward to the privilege then.”

Lance smiled stiffly. Was he being flirted with?

“How do you like our nest so far?”

“It’s awesome,” Lance relaxed, “I haven’t seen all of it to be honest. The levels closest to the surface is where I’ve spent most of my time outside of Kolivan’s niche.”

“Most witches like the upper levels because of the natural sunlight and the green things. But we have parks and gardens with green things in some of the lower levels. Galra aren’t allowed there because we might disturb the ecosystem but witches have special access because it’s good for their mental health. We take good care of our witches here.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” He saw Slav earlier wearing down the ears of six demons who were cajoling him to eat between breaths.

“I can show you the gardens,” he produced a hand. “If you like.”

Lance nodded, “Sure, but—”

“Go away, Regris,” Kolivan said on his return. “Spare Lance your insatiability.”

“I was being _nice.”_

“You were being _horny._ Go away.”

Regris made a face at Kolivan, exaggerated all the more because of his old wounds and exposed teeth, but it was impossible to hide the mischief and juvenile joy in his eyes as he waved to Lance and left.

“My grandson,” Kolivan sighed and put a bowl before Lance. “Regris is a good boy, but he loves to love. Too much, sometimes, I think.”

“He seemed nice,” Lance said with full cheeks.

“You see what I mean now that you would have more marriage contracts than you’d know what to do with? Already Thace and my grandson are eager to proposition you.”

“Thace isn’t your son?”

“Thace is Antok’s and Vrek’s son. You have not yet met Vrek, she is one of our disciplinary officers. Krolia is mine and Antok’s of an older contract. Regris is the child of my eldest daughter, Ladnok.”

“Ugh. Complicated.” Lance pinched the bridge of his nose even as he demolished his meal.

Kolivan nodded. “It is. We have matchmakers that keep track of our family trees. Without them we might have succumbed to diseases a long time ago, unaware of accidental incest.”

“Yikes.”

“Indeed,” he smirked a little. “I forgot to ask: what had Ulaz said?”

“Oh, he uh,” and he put down his spoon at last. “He said I don’t have a second heart that generates the magic I use but like…my soul is in this funnel shape that I take magic out of the air and use it how I need to.”

 _“Ah,”_ Kolivan said as though everything clicked. “That explains so much. Such as why you falter at basic magics. Taking this information back to your coven will revolutionize how they approach future lessons, I’m sure.”

Lance swallowed and nodded, unsure.

As per usual, Lance couldn’t hide anything from him. “Talk to me, love.”

“I don’t know if they’d take me back. I ran away, Kolivan.”

Kolivan smiled. “Fights are normal within family.”

“But—”

Kolivan encouraged their eyes to meet by slipping a forefinger under Lance’s chin. “Do not stress yourself with dark imaginings.” And he kissed Lance briefly and passionately. “Eat now. I want you to at least have a full stomach in case someone proposes to you again.”

Lance wrinkled his nose. “You sure you’re not being a little paranoid, Koli?”

Kolivan stared at him a moment. “No,” he growled. “You are desirable.”

“What, for my power?”

“For how you walk,” Kolivan surprised him. “You walk as though you are always in thought. And for how your bright eyes seem to pick up everything. It’s in how you do not flinch before the grotesque wounds of people around you, how you are so _passionate_ but you reel in that passion out of fear. There is a dichotomy of strength and vulnerability in you. It begets interest. It begets desire to learn about you.”

Lance thumped his head against Kolivan’s unforgiving bicep. “Shut up,” he sobbed.

Kolivan casually pinched the fire at the top of Lance’s head to out it. “Eat, love. Then rest. Tomorrow we see your coven again.”

Lance nodded. When his cheeks were dry he finished his meal.


	4. Lesson One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love ensues and they return to the coven. Warning: self-harm mentioned in this chapter.

Lance admired Kolivan because of his strength of heart.

That night, embraced and nude, Lance’s fingers toyed with the curls of white chest hair as he spoke about the wars waged between Galra and mankind. On certain questions, Kolivan would gently guide Lance’s hands to a part of his body where he received an injury of one kind or another. It was sensual, but it was also humbling. Kolivan spoke about his thousand and one mistakes and regrets, and sometimes his voice was thick from it.

All of that and he was still trying. He fought so hard to be kind. Lance listened as hard as he could.

“I get angry sometimes,” Kolivan admitted. “I’m still furious. With the state of the world, with my own shortcomings. In the past when I felt this way, Antok would wake up to find that I had harmed myself. I am not proud of those moments of weakness.”

“But you’re better now,” Lance whispered in awe. “You don’t do that now.”

“No. But sometimes the urge returns. Which is why I want to help you so much. I have been where you are. I don’t want you to go through what I went through.”

Lance pressed his forehead to Kolivan’s cleavage, his fingers lightly clasped over a nipple. He felt Kolivan’s hot tail wrap around his calf in a sweet embrace.

Kolivan kissed the top of his head. “I noticed that you’re better at controlling your combustion today.”

“Mhm,” Lance laughed at the abrupt change in topic. “It’s easy to imagine encasing myself in a box, like, cutting myself off from the energy around me. It’s so obvious now I wonder why I didn’t try this before.”

“You were being educated in the exact opposite,” Kolivan soothed. “It’s very impressive that you taught yourself control in just one day.”

Lance blushed. “You’re proud of me?”

Kolivan caressed his jaw and angled him up, such that their eyes met. “Very proud of you.”

Lance felt his soul and heart and gut and loins clench at the gentle hunger in Kolivan’s face. Ever considerate, he made no move to show his intention. But Lance knew the way Kolivan shifted his thighs was to hide how hard he’d gotten. Lance squirmed up to his elbows—quickly cold without arms on either side of him—and repositioned himself where he could touch the sides of Kolivan’s neck.

His larger than life demon whimpered beneath him. His eyes fluttered shut. “Lance,” he warned in a strangled whisper. “Be careful.”

“Can I kiss you, Koli?”

“Yes,” and when he opened his eyes they were set upon Lance’s lips. “Yes.”

Kolivan met him halfway. His claws tickled Lance’s back and hip and wrapped around to hold his ass too easily. His articulate tongue was desperate, and his moaning high pitched. Lance’s hands rubbed his throat, his thumbs gently pressing beneath his Adam’s apple, his forefingers flicking in a consistent caress.

Lance risked one hand straying to Kolivan’s nape and the beginnings of his long, long hair. It was splayed out over the cushions beneath them. Ethereal. He gripped the roots of his hair and was rewarded with a submissive, cattish whimper.

Lance threw a leg over Kolivan’s waist in response. He lay motionless on his back, let Lance crawl on top of him, their lips touching all the while. Kolivan’s tail took on a sensual personality. It curled up his thigh, its whiplash end teasing at the flesh of his ass, undulating as if trying to jerk off his entire leg.

Lance made the mistake of bracing on Kolivan’s neck to steady himself. Before he could apologize, Kolivan stilled and choked out a moan. “Again,” he whispered.

Lance, aroused and careful, pressed on the front of Kolivan’s throat again. “Like this?”

Kolivan shivered beneath him. “Harder, please?”

Lance swallowed. Kolivan could break him in half, rip him to ribbons, crush him with a word. But he was nothing but desperation manifested beneath Lance and his tiny, paltry grip. Kolivan’s muscles were alive with tension. His breaths came out quicker and he angled his back further as Lance added more and more pressure to his throat. Lance added his second hand to brace himself, getting hot off Kolivan’s arousal.

Kolivan whined. His back was arched clear off the bedsheets now. His tail squeezed Lance’s leg just shy of painful. “Yes,” he choked out.

Lance released him as his brow changed colour.

Kolivan gasped loudly, bucked wildly, and Lance held firm by gripping his demon between his thighs. He breathed as deeply as Kolivan, watching him avidly for discomfort, but Kolivan’s eyes were wet in approval.

“Mm,” he nodded. “You are stronger than you look.”

Lance blushed. “That was alright, then?”

“More than alright. Would you be willing to do it again?”

Lance held his neck, leaned down and kissed him messily. Kolivan gasped then melted into it. “As many times as you want.”

“Thank...you.”

“Would you like to touch yourself as I do this?”

Kolivan bit his bottom lip. He clearly did. For the first time Lance thought him cute. He looked conflicted. Lance felt an emotion before Kolivan said, “I do not want to be the only one who benefits from this.”

“I benefit,” Lance replied honestly. “I like being in control.”

“I enjoy you being in control as well. But is it balanced? I am receiving everything that I enjoy. What about you?”

Lance was about to shake it off, but a thought popped into his head. He reddened.

“Tell me,” Kolivan caressed his cheek.

“It’s...embarrassing.”

“Nothing is embarrassing about sex, love. It is intimate is all. If you’d rather not say I will not pressure you, but you will receive no judgement from me.” He smiled toothily. “You will eventually come to learn that I am the last being to confer judgement on anyone.”

Lance perked up. “You mean you’re kinky?”

“No comment.”

Lance laughed. He nuzzled Kolivan’s open palm and borrowed some of the courage Kolivan offered. “I want to um, feel your tail between my legs.”

Kolivan nodded. His tail immediately let loose Lance’s leg and slowly slowly moved between their bodies. It seemed longer all of a sudden now that the bumps and ridges and blunt fins were within reach, casually splayed on Kolivan’s belly. Lance traced his fingers over it. It felt coarse.

“Would you like me to move my tail back and forth? To save you from riding it?”

“Actually, maybe this was a bad idea. It’s harder than I remember. Uh, the skin I mean,” he added at Kolivan’s confusion. “It’ll be a little rough against my intimate places.”

“I understand. Would you like to try lubrication and see if that changes your mind?”

“Oh,” and Lance straightened. “Yes, sure.”

“Up a moment,” and Kolivan tossed Lance into the bedstuff before Lance could move. They laughed, and Kolivan bracketed him, dominated him for a heartbeat, to leave a loving peck on his nose. He whispered, “I will be back.”

When he moved away Lance’s heart was still going a mile a minute.

 _Oh my God,_ Lance covered his face. He was so certain a heartbeat before that he would enjoy riding Kolivan for an indefinite future, but something about being manhandled and thrown down and at the mercy of a man he trusted and respected got him as wet as making Kolivan whimper did.

He touched himself cautiously at the thought. He _was_ wet. Wetter than he expected himself to be. When he pleasured himself he often did so with the assistance of oil or vaseline. It wasn’t until half-an-hour in of teasing himself did he notice his channel start melting and aching for penetration. He had fantasized about sex before as being easy, as him experiencing a pleasure and orgasm unlike any he had brought upon himself, and now that he thought about it having an experienced partner like Kolivan it didn’t seem like wishful thinking anymore.

At the same time he did not expect to be _this_ aroused _this_ quickly! He was still rubbing himself in awe before he noticed Kolivan’s return.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Kolivan said softly. “May I watch you pleasure yourself?”

Lance turned a dark colour, lifted his legs bent at the knee and abided. He was nearly struck breathless at the strong stroke of _want_ and _appreciation_ and _hunger_ that rattled their Bond. It made his clit even more receptive to his fingers, and he whined as he jerked himself off.

“Beautiful,” Kolivan murmured, and Lance knew that he _meant_ it. He could _feel_ it. Kolivan could think of nothing more beautiful in the world at that moment than Lance loving himself in this visceral and physical way. It filled him with pride and love on top of copious arousal. When he said Lance was beautiful, he did not mean his physical appearance. He meant his growth in the short time that they knew one another. He meant Lance’s willingness to put himself on display.

“May I touch you?”

Lance wondered in what way. “Yes,” he hiccupped.

Kolivan held Lance’s ankle in a loose ring made by his thumb and forefinger and kissed Lance’s calf. The way he seated himself between Lance’s open legs it would take little effort to persuade his erection into his hole. Instead, Kolivan lapped at Lance’s flesh, eyeing up how his fingers rolled through his folds.

His other hand traced his claws in ticklish nonsense patterns on the outside of his thigh. He asked, “Can you come like this?”

Lance gasped, “M-maybe.”

“Do you need help?”

Lance managed a coquettish grin. “What kind of help?”

Kolivan purred at his flirting. Then he revealed his prehensile tail, now shimmering and dripping with oil. Lance exhaled at the sight of it.

“I’d like to emulate what you were doing.”

Lance removed his fingers. “Okay.”

So Kolivan sat on his haunches between Lance’s spread thighs, held his little love’s feet aloft by the back of his knees and his tail slid forward.

Lance threw his head back. Static sparked up from his groin to his brain. The emotional bond between them benefitted them both in that Kolivan didn’t need ask every so often what Lance liked and what he did not--he could tell in an instant. His tail slid between Lance’s folds, grinding against his clit with its blunt barbs and bumps with the right pressure and the right angle.

Lance had his arms over his head and kept himself still. “Right there,” he sang. “Oh, Kolivan--yes, right there.”

Kolivan felt himself shiver, felt his member drool. Was it because he was hungry for a witch for centuries was why he was so eager to please Lance? Or was it simply Lance, little and wounded and sly and adaptive, that brought out his subservience? He rocked his hips as his tail slid against the slimy soft texture of Lance’s intimacy. A fiendish part of him wanted to take Lance now, abandon kindness, make him scream so that the entire pack knew that Lance was satisfied with Kolivan and Kolivan alone.

He shelved that desire for another time. He wanted to savor each and every of Lance’s firsts, savor, even, the times when Lance might reject him. He wanted to learn Lance, learn what made him unique. 

Somehow through their Bond Lance could tell that Kolivan’s eagerness was not exclusively sexual and that aroused him all the more: his brown skin was alight with black fire, eerie and cold, and cast odd shadows about them.

“Beautiful,” Kolivan said again, wide-eyed. When Lance met his gaze, there was something cocky there, and Kolivan wanted to see more of it. He moved his tail with more gumption.

Lance whined. His legs shook--Kolivan kept him in place. The smell of Lance’s abundant arousal lay thick on his tongue. Oil and slick matted the furs beneath them. Lance dug his teeth into his bottom lip and fisted the cushions. His hips bucked. His toes curled. He groaned, shrieked.

Kolivan felt Lance spasm through his tail. The fires coating their skin popped blue and then faded into a temperate yellow, which cast more light. It illuminated Lance’s mound, shiny with spend and quaking in ardor, and his pink folds beneath it, labia vaguely peeking through, pulsing in the attempt to swallow something down.

Kolivan kissed the inside of one ankle and then the other as Lance came down, and the fires slowly went out. He marvelled that Lance had learned control enough that he set himself on fire but not the things he lie down on! Two days and already he was showing fantastic mastery. Was he recalibrating a decade of lessons in his mind against the new knowledge that he did not have a second heart?

“Mm,” and Kolivan leaned over him and kissed his throat. “My witch. My Bonded. My little genius.”

Lance giggled tiredly. “Genius?”

“You’re clever in subtle ways. And you came so beautifully.” He paused. “May I touch you?”

A flash of indecision. “Where?”

“Your chest. Would you rather I didn’t?”

“I uh, yes. I’d rather you didn’t.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” and he kissed Lance’s forehead. “It makes me proud that you demonstrate autonomy over your body while allowing me access to it.”

Lance grinned. “Does it turn you on when I say no?”

Kolivan raised a brow. “It can.”

“ _Mmm_ duly noted.”

Kolivan grinned, broad and boyish and it looked unusual on his face, but good too. It wrinkled all his scars, big and little, and Lance touched his cheek a little amazed. Kolivan kissed his wrist.

Suddenly: “You didn’t get off.”

“I did not,” and he kissed lower on Lance’s arm, “but it is not always necessary. I am content pleasing you.”

And Lance felt his truth, but he still thought it unequal. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Kolivan considered a moment. His eyes flickered with internal conflict.

“You just thought of something,” Lance sat up on his elbows. He hooked his legs on Kolivan’s tough hips. “Tell me.”

“If...you would be willing,” he mumbled, “would you be interested in pleasuring me with your mouth?”

“A blowjob?”

Kolivan startled. Lance’s eyes sparkled. Rampant interest reverberated down their Bond. Kolivan couldn’t have imagined a more enthusiastic consent. He flinched when Lance jumped him.

“I’m probably shit at it,” Lance giggled wildly. “But I really like the idea of it. I try it out on toys but--anyway, can I? Can I go down on you? Please?”

A shocked Kolivan nodded mutely.

Lance descended, his spine a fluid swaying shape, and he maintained eye contact until he was properly seated between Kolivan’s gargantuan thighs. He spread his hands over hamstring and quad and the dips of his hips funnelling into his groin, and Kolivan whimpered. His hands were so _hot._ If he deigned notice, Lance’s hands were on fire.

Was this really the same young man who had nearly destroyed a building because he couldn’t corral his own power?

“You’re getting far too good at that.”

Lance popped his lips. Kolivan’s eyes and ears pricked. Lance oozed smugness. Where had all this confidence come from?

And then he learned why.

Lance kissed the narrow head of Kolivan’s cock then swallowed and swallowed and swallowed. He on occasion receded but in no time at all his lips and nose were pressed into Kolivan’s pubic hair and knot, and his throat thick with his shaft.

Kolivan’s hips and thighs shook beneath Lance’s hands. He desperately wanted to thrust. Lance’s hands slid up his belly and when that hot hot gentle touch cascaded shy of his solar plexus, Kolivan finally relinquished his hold on himself to whine and gasp, threw his head back and bit his knuckles till they bled.

“You’re _far_ too good at this,” he groaned.

Lance’s tongue lapped at the underside of his cock in reply.

Then he threw himself into sucking properly. He moved all of his body--his head, neck, shoulder and back--essentially fucking himself on Kolivan’s cock.

Kolivan stayed still but just barely, and he barely breathed, watching the tiny body work with great resolve.

“Oh uh _oh,”_ and then he silenced himself again. Lance ignited in that black-purple flame once more and his eyes took on a bright blue sheen and Kolivan wondered to himself: which one of us is the real demon?

His end came with startling quickness. Lance was aware, and cajoled Kolivan into holding his head. Kolivan was scared of hurting Lance, and only held gently despite knowing for himself that Lance could take it.

Then through their Bond trickled a thought that was not his own: _Fuck my throat, Kolivan._

And Kolivan bucked into Lance’s throat without further ado.

Lance took it. Magnificently. The fire sparked on their skin and that heat coupled with tight wetness was more than he could bare. He was complete in no time at all, released Lance, and Lance lapped at the fluid that carted in the air.

To him, it tasted savory. Not salty, not bitter--it was almost delicious but most certainly palatable. He dragged his tongue over Kolivan’s groin and lower belly anxious to not miss a speck. Kolivan’s jaded groan roused him from his drunken stupor.

“Who would have thought there was such a carnal beast trapped away in there,” he chuckled. “You will be my undoing.”

Smug confidence embroidered Lance’s delight. “Is that a complaint?”

“You know it isn’t.”

Lance laughed and pressed his cheek to Kolivan’s hard belly. “Mm. Thank you.”

“Thank _you._ Come,” he dragged Lance onto his body and pulled a sheet over them both. It was nice and cool against their overheated skins. “Sleep now, love.”

It was no hardship. Six lazy kisses later, their snores had synchronized.

-

Curtis stared agog from the front door.

Lance stood tall with his hands folded in the pockets of trousers cinched at the waist. He wore a billowing blue blouse, and his large eyes flickered while his mouth made shapes between insecurity and defiance. Behind him Kolivan loomed dressed in soft armor, hair braided, Lance’s backpack in one hand. 

Kolivan bowed his head in greeting. “Good morning.”

“G-good morning,” Curtis echoed.

Lance couldn’t help but be a little amused that Curtis’ shock. “Can we come in?”

He jumped. “Yes,” he stepped aside. “Yes. Um. Everyone’s in the kitchen.”

Lance blew out a sigh. “Right.”

Kolivan physically reassured him with a bump of a caress to his jaw with a finger. “You’re doing well, Lance.”

There was a pulse of gratitude, then Lance focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

The breakfast table had much of the same reaction as Curtis did. Adam was just about ready to bite into his toast and Shiro stopped mid-stir on his coffee and Keith had frozen on the spot. 

“Hi, guys…” Lance waved awkwardly. “Uh. Great weather, huh?”

Keith was the first to recover. He jumped out of his seat and caught Lance in a powerful embrace. 

Lance hugged him back and laughed. “Ha! Now I know I _really_ messed up if Keith is the one hugging me!”

“Shut up,” Keith sobbed. “Do you know how _scared_ we were?”

“Aw, Keith was worried about lil’ old me?”

“ _This isn’t a joke!”_ and he pulled back. He was crying, ugly and big, and he kept rubbing his cheeks but it didn’t make a difference. “We were _terrified_ that you left for good! Or that you were out there somewhere, hurt and tired, and there was nothing we could do for you!”

“What Keith means to say,” Curtis interjected, “is that we’re so happy you’re safe.”

“Thanks,” Lance felt off kelter watching _Keith cry_. It didn’t get better when he turned to the table and Adam was staring at him and Shiro glaring at Kolivan.

He cleared his throat. “Uh. I’m sorry I worried you guys. If it’s any consolation this’ll be the last time.”

That summoned Shiro’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m formally withdrawing from your coven.”

Shiro jolted to his feet. _“What?!”_

Adam stood second, “Now, let’s talk about this.”

Keith shrieked, “You’re leaving?!”

Kolivan frowned. “This is not what we discussed, love.”

Curtis was the only one distracted by the pet name.

Lance blurted, “But it’s for the best, isn’t it? You guys didn’t even know I didn’t have a second heart but there are witches in Kolivan’s nest who more than know about it they’ve studied it. For _millennia!_ And with your weird feelings about Kolivan,” and he pointed at Shiro, “and your conviction I never belonged here,” and he pointed at Keith, “it’s a win-win situation! I leave, everyone’s happy!”

“I’m not happy,” Keith growled. Fat crocodile tears still pooled off his cheeks.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Well. You’re never happy.” He ignored Kolivan’s empathetic persuasion to calm down.

_You speak from a place of anger._

_I know._

Kolivan frowned.

Adam said, “Lance, please. Can we discuss this?”

“What’s to discuss? I already made up my mind.”

“Please, Lance,” Shiro sat. “At the very least let me apologize to you and Kolivan.”

That startled the room. One by one people took their seats. The table was a squeeze for five but Kolivan was content to stand behind Lance with one hand on each shoulder.

It was not lost on the coven how Lance had changed in two days. His snark remained intact but there was more bite to his words. He stood with true confidence rather than something in place to disguise unspoken uncertainty. 

And there was the matter of his magic. Lance always wore his magic on his sleeve, like he was too little a being to hold all of it. Now he seemed like a mortal through and through, not a drop of the arcane in his blood. Yet when he summoned a cup of tea be made for himself and his familiar, the utensils and sugar and tea bags danced into place without having to be told twice.

Shiro folded his arms on the table. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Kolivan. “I was quick to trust my own prejudices before I tried to trust my own student. I hurt you. And I hurt Lance,” and he looked at his charge, “and you deserve better than that.”

Lance goaded, “Why did you tell me to sever my contract?”

Shiro flinched and closed his eyes. Adam held his hand. Lance frowned. “What is it?”

“It’s a very long story,” Adam started.

“I want to hear Shiro say it,” Lance growled. “You’re always jumping to his defense, talking over him. Shiro can talk for himself.”

Adam recoiled at Lance’s outburst.

Shiro chuckled. “I’m used to hiding. He’s right, Adam. Let me?” and he kissed Adam’s knuckles.

Adam retreated.

“What do you know about Garrison, Lance?”

Lance shrugged. “They’re an international organization that protects people from magical threats. Anything from witch terrorists to the theoretical weblum gearing for a city. What about them?”

“They’re glorified mercenaries,” Shiro spat stiffly. Quieter: “And I once worked with them.”

Kolivan frowned.

“During the war over thirty years ago the Garrison had started a new program to beat back the Galra threat. They would enlist magic users and trained them until they were strong enough to summon the most powerful demons as their familiars. Then they used those familiars to fight back.”

Lance flinched. He glanced at Keith.

“Not Keith,” Shiro said quickly. “I was little more than a child when I was enlisted. I summoned…” he closed his eyes. “I summoned a Galra. His name was Sendak. And we fought against the Galra together and he hated every minute of it.”

Kolivan could imagine. This Sendak was likely contractually obligated to cut down his own brothers and sisters. What he couldn’t imagine was what sort of stress that sort of trauma does to a Bond.

“On a mission to Mexico, when I was twenty-five,” Shiro stared into his past, “I was supposed to take my familiar into a new Galra nest that had opened up there and destroyed a nearby city.” He swallowed. “It was a trap. Sendak, somehow, got through to his friends and trapped me underground. For a year they...ate...from me. I only managed to escape when I drudged up enough energy to summon Keith, who broke me out of there. I owe him my life.”

“In summoning me Shiro saved me from dying of exposure of the world I was on,” Keith said softly. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Shiro smiled, but it twitched out of place. He met Lance’s eyes. “I was like you. I had so much power. But if too much of it is taken...it never comes back. At the time I thought that having a Galra as your familiar did not outweigh the threat of you losing your power or your life should Kolivan make one mistake. One mistake is all it takes.”

Lance worked his jaw. “I’m sorry that happened to you. But it won’t happen to me.”

Shiro swallowed and seemed to be putting his words together. “In the long term--”

“I don’t produce magic,” Lance interrupted, “so there’s no way that Kolivan could even begin to suck me dry.”

Adam straightened. “What are you talking about?”

Shiro and Curtis were the only ones who looked unsurprised. “You mentioned you didn’t have a second heart,” Shiro said. 

Adam whipped to Shiro and back. “That’s impossible. You wouldn’t be able to use magic without a source of power.”

“I do have a source of power.” And Lance told them. He added that since the revelation he learned how to control the shape of his soul--rather than attempting to contain the magic within himself--and like so he figured out in a day what he hadn’t been able to do in years. “Kolivan, if the mood ever strikes him, eats _through_ me, he doesn’t eat me. He can’t eat the ether itself but, like, when I touch it, he can take it from me.”

Shiro looked at Kolivan.

Kolivan respectfully bowed his head.

“You have witches in your nest.”

“Yes. If they summon us, we form a contract after telling them who and what we are. As I did for Lance, when we met.”

“You should see this place,” Lance picked up. “It’s _amazing._ I thought packs lived only rough caves but this place is a city!”

“A city,” Adam eked in concern.

Curtis asked, “And is that why you want to leave us, Alejandro? Because you have more opportunities there than with us?”

Keith growled, “Your place is _with us._ Whatever I said in the past I’m sorry and I never meant it. You belong with us, not...not…”

Lance took Kolivan’s empty cup and set it beside his own. “I think I’d be of more use there. There are witches there who are used to working with demons. And I want to live with Kolivan.” He smiled and felt Kolivan embrace him in his mind.

Curtis, unnoticed, made a small _“oh”_ as his suspicions clicked into place. He suppressed a smile at Keith’s incredulous expression as it dawned on him too. If Shiro and Adam realized, they gave no outward indication.

Instead they seized upon the fact that Lance wanted to leave them. Adam murmured, “Is it even safe where you are? The Garrison hasn’t stopped its war against Galra, even if the worst of it is over…”

“My nest is not on Earth. The Garrison is no threat to us.”

“ _Not_ on Earth?”

“Did you not believe me when I said it is not our aim to colonize and destroy your world? We are content with where we are and our way of life. And contrary to belief we do not _only_ eat arcane energy.”

Adam sat back.

Shiro faced Lance: “But are you _sure?_ You’ve been with us for ten years I...I’m willing to trust you but...I want to protect you too. That’s my responsibility. Two days doesn’t seem like enough time to make a life-changing decision.”

Lance opened his mouth to reply hotly--

“You’re right,” Kolivan said. “Two days is not enough time, and I respect you as Lance’s teacher. The option for Lance to stay with you and complete his education is very much on the table and, in fine, it is the option I prefer. I am content to stay on this plane as Lance’s familiar for however long that may be.”

Lance turned in his chair. _“Kolivan!”_

“You cannot deny yourself the choice, love.”

“I made my choice!”

“I think you should try another choice.”

Lance stuck out his tongue in a witty rebuttal.

“If Kolivan is going to stay,” Adam said slowly, “then we should be assured that we are all safe.”

Lance protested, “He would _never_ hurt any of you--”

“If it means to protect Lance I would in a heartbeat.”

“ _Kolivan don’t say that--”_

Kolivan ignored him. “What assurances would you need?”

“Your power is locked away so that you can’t eat more than you need to.”

Lance immediately shook his head. “No. _No._ That’s unfair, unethical, inhumane, rude--”

Kolivan said, “I am content with these terms.”

Lance twisted: “Stop! No! We are not doing this!”

“That’s quite enough,” Kolivan stopped him with a thumb to his cheek and fingers beneath his chin. “You’ve demonstrated that you would sacrifice for my family. Let me prove the feeling is mutual.”

“But this is unnecessary. We don’t have to stay!”

Keith blurted, “Why do you want to leave so badly?”

“Because I don’t want to stay in a place where I have no control for a minute more than I have to!”

Shiro frowned. “You have control.”

“ _What_ control? I wasn’t allowed to leave the reserve unless I had you or Adam or Curtis with me!”

“That was for your safety.”

“Yeah, well, I like having the choice of being responsible for myself.”

Kolivan whispered, “That’s not yet for you to decide.”

Lance whirled on him. “Whose side are you on!?”

“That of your best interests,” Kolivan answered shortly. “You should show respect to the men who had raised you.”

Lance blushed in outrage and embarrassment and then was storming up to his room. They each winced at the loud _bang_ from the top of the stairs, and Lance let Kolivan feel his rage _traitor traitor traitor traitor_ his mind screamed until it was exhausted, and Kolivan felt like crying.

He pinched his eyes.

Shiro stood and offered his left hand. “Thank you. For keeping your word. And for letting us see Lance again.”

“For all he wants to see us,” Keith growled with obvious hurt.

Kolivan took Shiro’s hand. “Lance is angry at how he is still being treated like a child, and he feels betrayed I did the same. He had more mobility in our nest.” He paused. “He will not yet say it, but he is touched that you care for him. He cares for you deeply as well. It is why he reacts so passionately.”

“Thank you.” Shiro smiled. 

Kolivan inclined his head. “On the matter of binding my power, to whom do I refer?”

“Me,” Adam stepped forward. His hands glowed white with his aura. “Thank you for abiding us.”

Kolivan nodded. He offered his hands palm up.

“You might feel a sting.”


	5. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They try out their new dynamic on the mortal plane.

The door swung shut when Kolivan approached it.

He broadcast amusement and impatience.

“I heard what you said,” Lance’s muffled voice grumbled. “If I’m going to be treated like a child I’m gonna act like one!”

“That solves nothing,” Kolivan sighed. He tapped on the door handle with a claw.

The contract he made with Lance meant that he was given small dominion over external magics. While it was hardly comparable to anything the most mediocre of witches could dredge up, his experience made up for it.

He reached into himself and touched the deposit of Lance’s soul—living potential energy, magic at rest—that was let to him. It rushed into his metaphysical palm. It was cool and bright. He imagined it in a funnel shape as Lance had described. The ether responded—almost cheerfully—pouring into his chest and into his fingers and claws and into the locking mechanism.

_Click!_

“Hey!” As Kolivan opened the door Lance reared up from his bed. “Have you never heard of knocking?!”

Kolivan tilted his head. “Galra do not have doors.”

“Yeah. Well. At least close it behind you.”

Kolivan thought it silly. He broadcast as much. He closed the door. _Click!_

Lance glared at him. Then he suddenly flung something. Unfortunately, although he tried to mask it, a pulse of excitement betrayed him and Kolivan reacted long before the cushion had come anywhere near his face. “Excellent aim, love.”

Lance tsked and flopped down face-first into the belly of a blue teddy bear.

Kolivan glanced around. The room was messier than he remembered. Then as he made his way to Lance’s side, spilled ink pooled back into their glass jars. Papers repaired their tears and slid into their books and those books toppled into their designated shelves. The hanging plants wiggled, though didn’t seem to get any bigger or smaller. It was like they were rocking themselves to sleep. Kolivan looked down when an army of writing implements marched to the small writing desk in the faraway corner. The mat he stood on had a spiral pattern that was swirling.

“Are you doing all of this?”

“No, it’s the work of my dead Aunt Petunia.”

When Kolivan did not respond Lance grunted, “I was joking.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. You mentioned a talent for necromancy.”

“Har har. Are you going to come over here or not?”

Kolivan quirked a grin. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am. I also want a hug.”

Kolivan smiled a little softer, stripped out of his leather vest and belts and sunk into Lance’s bed. It was soft, but the firmness of the floor beneath it cancelled out potential discomfort.

Lance squeezed himself against Kolivan’s chest and belly and threw a leg over his hip. He felt Kolivan’s tail tie around his other leg and hot breath saturate his hair. “I don’t want to be here.”

Kolivan danced his claws down Lance’s clothed spine. He felt him shiver. “What is it about this place that you hate so much?”

Lance’s hands flexed against Kolivan’s bicep. “I don’t belong here.”

“You are the only one who thinks that.”

“I’ve stayed here all this time because I didn’t have a choice. My mom sacrificed to get me here and Shiro sacrificed to keep me. But now I have a place where people don’t have to sacrifice for me anymore. I don’t want to be a burden anymore.” His hands ran down to Kolivan’s wrists where runes pulsed. “I can feel it. It hurts.”

“It’s manageable. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through _this._ Why did you want to stay? Why did you let them do this to you?”

Kolivan angled his face up. “Because if I allowed you to come with me without a backwards glance, one day you would look at me with resentment.”

“Why would I—”

“Because by then, when your anger is finished, be it a day from now or years from now, you’d be able to remember this all clearly. You’ll be able to see that these people _love_ you, that you were _not_ an obligation to them, and you would realize that you had broken their hearts by leaving.”

Lance stayed mutinously silent.

“They _raised_ you, love. For ten years they nurtured you. Please, for yourself if not for the love I know you have for them, repair your bonds with them and reconsider staying.”

“You already made that choice for me,” Lance spat wetly.

“Not at all. We can leave at any time.”

“Huh?”

“It is your power that enables us to move between planes. And the seals projected onto me by Witch Adam, while effective, can be shattered with enough effort.”

Lance’s brows arched up. “Adam’s strongest skills are in sealing things.”

“Oh, he’s very competent. Better than most. But with effort it can still be undone.”

Lance offered a lopsided grin. “You’re pretty strong, huh?”

Kolivan frowned at him. “You would accidentally eviscerate anyone less.”

“Pfft!”

Kolivan kissed his temple.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Kolivan.”

“You’re welco—”

“Even if I don’t like it.”

Kolivan kissed his temple. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled. Lance shifted—Kolivan kissed his nose—and then Lance slipped his tongue between his lips.

They kissed sweetly. Lance slipped his hands beneath Kolivan’s shirt and drew sigils there with his fingertips. He felt that belly tense.

“Cold,” Kolivan gasped. Lance’s overwarm right hand followed in the wake of his left, fire and ice drawn in his skin. _“Oh.”_

Lance inched his hands higher and higher. A request for permission came to Kolivan’s mind, he gave it without thinking and bucked when a cold pinch and hot caress enveloped each nipple. His tail squeezed Lance’s leg and he felt himself going stupid with arousal. All the same he managed: “Perhaps doing this in the house of your coven is a poor show of gratitude for their hospitality?”

Lance stuck out his tongue as a show of his opinion.

His cold hand pinched tighter. His hot hand was feather light. Kolivan whined. His rubbed his ankles together. One hand was gentle on Lance’s hip, the other digging into the floorboards in an effort to ground himself. Despite himself, his hips rocked forward and the beginnings of an erection poked Lance’s exposed tummy.

“Stop trying to shield yourself from me,” Lance requested. “I want to feel all of it.”

Kolivan watched him through wet eyes. He let go.

Lance winced at the initial onslaught. Kolivan was devoted and grateful and frustrated and angry and aroused and hungry and concerned and distracted. Lance could pinpoint memories that related to each emotion, and he could almost hear the memories too—he recognized the sound of Krolia’s voice as if she were talking in the next room—and he wondered how Kolivan could experience pleasure while thinking and feeling.

Some of it tapered away. “Love?”

“I’m here,” Lance fell into another familiar kiss. “I was just surprised.”

“Lie on your back.”

Lance knew what he was going to do. His hands slipped free of Kolivan’s body and he was knocked silly by _both_ their regret. He giggled a little. “I can feel it.”

He _felt_ Kolivan smile, because his eyes were still closed. Mundane as his brain was it was smart enough to know that it couldn’t manage empathy _and_ coherent thought _and_ sight, so Lance went dumb and blind. But his skin was raw and sensitive to every brush of skin and hair: exchanging a few senses for heightened others felt a fair trade.

Lance was on his back and _pretty little dainty mine trusting careful carefully_ Kolivan sucked on his neck while caging him in with his arms. Lance wrapped his hands around Kolivan’s neck and shoulder and kissed him madly, drunk of Kolivan’s surprise _intrigue interest want careful hunger careful own careful careful_ he felt his fingertips get cold from magic. Kolivan gasped when flurries danced down his back beneath his clothes. Lance laughed.

Kolivan touched his cheek. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm.”

_Concern concern concern concern CONCERN—_

“I’m alright,” Lance said quickly, and groped around Kolivan’s face before finally cupping his cheeks. “It’s a lot, and I’m a little overwhelmed— _but don’t pull back please please—_ I like it. I like feeling you. I like that you gave me permission. Kiss me, please?”

Kolivan sealed their mouths together. _Grateful grateful mine mine,_ strummed through their bond and Lance drowned in it until the distinction between where his being ended and Kolivan’s began became a thin nebulous line.

“Keep hold of yourself,” Kolivan snapped suddenly. “Don’t lose yourself to me or else it will be a trial to collect all of you back.”

Lance’s brow twitched. “Alright,” and he squinted as he grasped onto the nebulous form of what he thought of himself. He was more than his body and his mind and his feelings. He was vaporous and real—

Kolivan pressed his erection against the seat of Lance’s trousers.

Lance’s toes curled and his knees twitched apart. He hadn’t expected that. Why hadn’t he expected that? His throat was full of Kolivan’s long tongue two heartbeats after.

“You’re pliant today,” Kolivan groaned into his hair. He canted his hips uselessly. Lance’s whole body moved with his shallow thrusts and he felt himself getting wet and hungry. “I enjoy you when you take control, but I enjoy having you beneath me too.”

Lance knew. Lance knew that Kolivan enjoyed breaking his lovers apart and building them up. He knew that he enjoyed being responsible for the visceral reactions of another being. He enjoyed being loyal and watching that loyalty pay off in a lover’s tears or exhausted squeaks for more. Lance could not say how he knew.

Kolivan was too broad in the hips for Lance to comfortably hook his feet behind his lower back, but he did drop his legs to spread even wider apart. He could feel the shape of his cock protesting against their clothes.

Kolivan, in turn, could feel the warm spot where Lance was oozing. _Wonderful yes yes good more more carefully careful want careful beautiful_ Lance writhed.

A burst of impulse later he heard a plastic snap. He jolted. “Kolivan?”

“I’m fine, love,” another crunch and then a scratching sound. “Think nothing of it. May I undress you?”

Lance thought, _You could bite my throat out and I’d thank you,_ and some of it must have transferred because Kolivan chuckled in his throat.

He felt a little cold when free of slacks and boxers. Kolivan’s tongue and hands quickly remedied that, carting hot lines down the back of his bent knees and thighs to the crease of his groin. Lance’s breath was coming in faster. He fisted the pillow beneath his head. Brow pinched, he tried to focus on keeping himself together, not falling into Kolivan, and not coming on the first pant of breath against his sex.

 _Hungry careful want careful,_ Kolivan licked a delicate stripe with the tip of his tongue over Lance’s hole up and under his clit.

Lance jerked. _“Oh!”_

“Careful,” Kolivan held Lance’s thighs aloft. “Lest you want your coven to hear you.”

Fear of discovery _and_ keeping himself together _and_ surviving the onslaught of Kolivan’s horny, chaotic emotions kept Lance still and quaking. There was something about the dichotomy of being denied and being granted pleasure that elevated this experience from casual play.

 _“Kolivan,”_ Lance whimpered when he was licked again. He didn’t say his name to gain attention or beg him to stop. There was just so much tension in his bones that some of it had to get out. His back arched and his toes curled and Kolivan kept him spread with his hot hands. _“That’s so good mmm that’s so good—”_

Kolivan rasped the flat of his tongue against Lance from hole to clit with enthusiastic pressure. Lance felt himself getting wetter all the while. He whimpered and whined, getting dangerously louder. And when Kolivan’s thumb took over stimulating his nub and his serpentine tongue stretched his entrance, Lance shouted, arched into his mouth and grabbed his antlers.

Kolivan pricked his ears for advancing feet as he continued.

“ _Mmf!”_ Lance went on the moment Kolivan switched it up again, now fingering his hole and angling up _just right._ Lance had a spark of brain space left to wonder what happened to Kolivan’s claws and then he remembered the snapping from earlier. _“Oh.”_

Kolivan fingered him in a slow, sensual, learned way. His tongue wreaked havoc on Lance’s senses otherwise, and Lance drowned under the ardor and the desire in Kolivan’s being. Kolivan wanted to do so much for him, wanted to please him for hours, _days_ , if granted the chance.

Lance worked his hips in shallow bucks, heels dragging against the floor, his hands tight around Kolivan’s antlers—Kolivan seemed _especially_ delighted at getting yanked—and with an aborted howl Lance came.

Kolivan worked him through it with gentle pumps and kisses to his mound, and when Lance came down he was still licking at his groin.

It was not for his partner’s pleasure, Lance realized, but for himself. He enjoyed being between the thighs of a lover. Lance tiredly squeezed his legs around Kolivan’s head and Kolivan melted and hummed to show his approval and drank like it was milk and honey.

Lance’s voice was small: “Thank you, Koli.”

Kolivan kissed over his labia. “Thank _you._ ”

“Do you want me to return the favor?”

“No. May I continue this for a while longer?”

Lance blushed and nodded.

“Thank you,” he murmured with profound gratitude. He returned to the slow trial of worming his long tongue into Lance’s channel.

Lance didn’t recognize when, but Kolivan must have shuttered their connection shortly after Lance’s orgasm, because all he remembered was a pulse of success that wasn’t his own and bubbly affection when permission was granted to continue. In any case, his eyes fluttered open and he looked down.

Somehow he had forgotten how big Kolivan was. He was lying on his belly and hunched over and his powerful shoulders hid the door and the wall from view. His nose, lips, teeth and cheeks were glossy, and his eyes were closed as he gently licked and sucked with no indication of stopping.

Lance blushed and Kolivan met his eyes.

“All is well?”

“Yes,” he nodded abashedly. “You really like doing that?”

“I do. The textures are…wonderful. Smooth, but rippled like a flower petal.”

“Aw.”

“And silky.” He took another cursory lick, careful to avoid the clit. “It’s like a juicy fruit.”

Lance chortled, vaguely dismayed. “Hey!”

“Consider it a compliment, love,” and Kolivan returned to his meal.

Lance reclined, distantly horny, and moaned at a particularly pleasant pressure or lingering aftershock of his orgasm.

He fell asleep with Kolivan’s tongue inside him.

-

Someone was knocking on the door.

Lance startled awake. Kolivan spooned him and had his tail pressed between his folds. It receded slightly as Kolivan roused. Lance gasped. _“Mf!_ ”

More knocking.

Lance looked at his skylight. It looked to be half an hour into daybreak at best. “Who…?”

It was hard work extracting himself from Kolivan’s embrace, not because his arm was heavy—Kolivan was awake enough to move it himself—but because he was so warm and cozy. The part of him that was angry for the sigils shining on the insides of Kolivan’s wrists wanted to leave whoever was knocking in the cold.

Kolivan’s pulse of disapproval encouraged him to yell “I’m coming, gimmie a minute!”

Kolivan lay like a Grecian god with cloven hoof and ivory antlers watching Lance dig through their discarded clothing. Each twitch of his tail reminded Lance of Luis’ cat invigilating the caged parakeets.

Lance yanked on a shirt that was too big for him—Kolivan’s, by the pleased rumble the demon gave—and stormed to the door and yanked it open: “Lessons don’t start until—oh. Keith.”

Keith flinched at Lance’s tone. “Uh.” His eyes drifted over Lance’s shoulder and then snapped back to his face. He looked very misplaced.

Lance frowned, “What is it?”

He blurted: “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

“Me? Walk with you?”

“That’s what I said.”

Lance was too confused to conjure a snide remark. “What for?”

Keith blushed.

“He wants to talk with you,” Kolivan intervened gently. “Go, Lance.”

Lance broadcasted frustration. He was looking forward to lazy kisses and an orgasm or two until he was forced to get ready for afternoon lessons.

 _We have the rest of our lives for that, if you want it,_ Kolivan’s sentiments were as clear as if he’d read them. _Go._

Keith was still blushing, more out of embarrassment for himself than of almost catching them in the act.

Lance nodded. “Okay. Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah but lemmie just…put some clothes on.”

“Right,” and Keith was pink as he stepped back. “Okay.” And he turned. “I’ll be on the porch.” He marched down the steps.

Lance watched him go. He asked the air, “And what are you going to do while I’m reminiscing with nature?”

“I was going to poke around your room. I’m curious how you live.”

Lance glared at him. Kolivan wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but whatever he was hiding he was coating in kind mischief. Harmless, Lance supposed.

“Alright. See you later then.”

“Won’t you kiss me farewell?”

“I do that Keith won’t see me until the day after tomorrow.”

Kolivan chuckled, rolled onto his back, and basked in the pulse of irritation and desire Lance felt when he eyed Kolivan’s black, lean, flaccid, heavy cock. “Crying shame.”

“Fuck.” And he dressed and left.

Keith was alone when Lance found him again. There was a trail worn into the forest by the coven and Keith wanted to take that to the nearby river and then circle back. There were fruits and herbs along the way that Shiro could find useful, so they carried baskets with them. The birds were loud even as they walked right under their trees. Fauna here never learned to be scared of humans.

Keith surprised him by asking: “You’re in a relationship with your demon?”

Lance looked at him sharply. “So?”

“So _nothing,”_ Keith bowed to pick something. “Just asking.”

“If you have something to say then say it.”

Keith surprised him by saying: “I’m happy for you.”

Lance stared at him. Keith wouldn’t meet his eyes. He continued, “I’m not blind, Lance. You’re happy with Kolivan. I just wish you didn’t hate living with us now that you have him.”

Lance pulled himself out of his shock. “It’s not that that I don’t want to live with you.” He swallowed. “I love you guys. You’ve been my family away from home.”

Keith’s gaze was alarmed. “So why…”

Lance clicked his tongue. It was his turn to look away. Antagonistic though Keith could be, it was always he who Lance meshed with the best. Maybe it was because they were close in age and were treated as the juveniles of the coven, maybe it was because they both yearned to reach Shiro’s and Curtis’ level of skill. Maybe it was because Keith was like a brother to him who considered his magical misfires something to joke at than to fear.

“I wasn’t saying what I meant to say yesterday,” Lance began.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“ _Will you give me a minute_ I’m trying to be sincere here!”

Keith suppressed a smirk at his outburst.

Lance suppressed a smile too. “Quit it, asshole.”

“Say what you want to say,” Keith said seriously and pulled ahead, luring Lance deeper into the forest and into a sense of ease. “I won’t cut you again.”

Lance smiled when Kolivan offered up a morsel of courage, but respectfully declined it. He felt affection butt against him like a pleased cat. He said, “What I meant to say is that in this place…I feel like the odd one out. Shiro and Adam have their magic down pat, they were masters when they were my age.”

“They were child soldiers, Lance, that’s not really something to praise.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to interrupt me?”

Keith put up a hand in apology.

“It’s just—they’re established. They have everything _down._ And I’ve been on training wheels since God made Moses.”

Keith reflexively grinned but swallowed his laugh.

“I felt like…I dunno. Like I was keeping everyone back. Which was why I was so happy when Shiro gave me permission to summon my familiar and I _did it. I summoned Kolivan._ And Kolivan felt so _right._ And then…when I thought I was finally doing the right thing, when my magic was responding, they told me to cut Kolivan out of my life. The one thing I did right. I just…I felt like I couldn’t stay in a place that kept telling me the thing I did well was wrong.”

Keith nodded. “I didn’t understand it like that.”

“What, you thought I was just throwing a bitch fit because?”

“A little.”

“Ouch.”

“I was hurt on Shiro’s behalf. I thought you didn’t trust him and his judgement. He lived through what Galra are capable of first hand. He meant to protect you and then you just…ran away into the arms of his worst nightmares.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t _know_. If I’d known I’d…”

“What. _Not_ run off with Kolivan?”

Lance glared. “I would’ve understood why Shiro was acting like that. If I _knew,_ I wouldn’t have been so angry that he wasn’t making sense.”

“He didn’t tell you. He didn’t want you seeing him like that.” He plucked something else out of the ground with more force than necessary. “I tell him he isn’t less of a man because some of his power was stolen, or because his arm was taken from him, or because he wakes up in the nights in a cold sweat. For someone who went through all that he’s incredibly stable.”

Lance groaned. “It feels like seeing Kolivan made him a little less _stable.”_

“Of course he’s irrational. When he told you to sever your contract he was saying that both as your teacher and as a man who’s reliving his trauma.”

“So shouldn’t I leave?”

“ _No._ Don’t you get it? He never wanted _you_ to leave. He wanted you to sever your contract because he wanted you to stay. _He wanted you to stay safe and stay as his apprentice._ He didn’t think that Kolivan was best for you.”

Lance watched Keith duck over some mushrooms and peruse as he thought. He eventually murmured, “I hurt him didn’t I.”

Keith nodded.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. He knows.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I think it’s because he didn’t want that colouring how you thought of him.”

_“For ten years?”_

“I mean, is it really—and don’t take this the wrong way—is it really any of your business?”

Lance decided to not let that sting.

“His trauma doesn’t define him. The Shiro you know is the Shiro he is.”

“I get it,” and Lance strode ahead. “Just…did everyone in the coven know but me?”

“Adam and I know because we were there. Curtis knows because before you came his nightmares used to wake him up screaming. I don’t know how much Adam told Curtis, to be honest.”

Lance nodded.

“We weren’t trying to keep you in the dark. It’s just…that’s Shiro’s call whether he wants people to know or not and, well, I dunno if you noticed but he’s shit at talking feelings.”

Lance snorted and Keith smiled.

“Thank you, Keith. For talking to me.”

“Thanks for listening. I’m sure it must have been tough with your hard head and all.”

“Don’t push it.”

Keith grinned and elbowed Lance’s shoulder. Lance shoved him back.

-

Curtis was sweeping off the porch when they returned, which did not surprise them. What surprised them was that Kolivan was standing nearby holding a tray of six cups of tea.

“Good morning Lance,” Curtis said softly.

“Mornin’, Kurt.” He ducked his head. “Uh, listen. I acted badly yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He put his broom aside and motioned for a hug. Lance embraced him. Curtis was firm, but he always had a strange energy. He smelled like nothing, felt like nothing, sounded like nothing. Half the time when he moved it was only the shadows that betrayed him. Rather than scales today his skin was scattered with feathers. Lance thought it apt, like he might fly away at any moment.

“Drink,” Kolivan said to them both. “Did you enjoy your walk?”

“Did you enjoy raiding my room?”

“Very much so.”

Lance sneered.

Then Shiro and Adam arrived.

Something in the air quieted as they shuffled onto the porch. No-one had spoken much before they arrived but there had been the promise of laughter on the tip of the tongue. Now it was replaced with reverence.

Kolivan reacted first, bowing his head and offering the tray of tea. “Good morning.”

Adam smiled warmly and helped himself. “Good morning, Kolivan. Good morning, Lance.”

Lance offered his cup in a salute. “Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

Lance burst into colour. His composure left him in a rush: he stuttered, “S-s-slept great, thanks. Uh. You?”

“Just fine.” He sipped his tea. “Mm. Fragrant. Lance—remind me to teach you soundproofing wards later, okay?”

Lance pressed his face into his cup and ignored the amusement rolling off Kolivan’s skin. “Right,” he squeaked.

Shiro took detached sips from his tea during their exchange. At last he lit up. “This is amazing. Curtis, did you make it? What is it?”

“I brewed it, but Kolivan would have to tell you want it is.”

“A peace offering,” Kolivan turned to Shiro and spoke low and even. “A means to clean the slate, begin again. Lance mentioned that tea drinking was a tradition of your coven. This tea is made from the leaves of a freshwater kelp tree native to my world. It is known to help with inflammation, fatigue and soreness.”

Adam, mind in the gutter, grinned. Lance elbowed him, red.

“Thank you,” Shiro regarded the dinky teacup with glittering eyes. He was careful to give Kolivan no more than a polite glance at any time. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“The honor is mine. We did not begin on the right foot, but I would like to make amends.”

“Me too,” Lance stepped forward. His breath caught in his throat when Shiro’s bloodshot eyes met his. His voice got watery, “Sh-Shiro…I…I’m so sorry. I was angry and scared and I…”

Shiro’s cup fell to the floor when yanked Lance into a hug.

Lance fought down a thickness in his throat. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have run away.”

“I shouldn’t have driven you away. I failed you.”

“You were doing your best.”

“And it wasn’t enough,” Shiro rubbed Lance’s hair. “But you didn’t turn out half bad, kiddo.”

Lance scoffed and scrubbed his face dry.

“There’s a lot more I need to talk to you about.”

“Yeah,” Lance wiped at his eyes. “Okay.”

“Can you and Kolivan come by the studio in an hour?”

“Sure.”

Shiro smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you.” He nodded to Kolivan and gave Curtis his empty cup. “Sorry, I’ll be borrowing Adam for a bit.”

“Take your time,” Curtis said gracefully.

“Keith, did you—”

“I talked to him before you woke up.”

Shiro nodded. It seemed blunt and cursory to Lance but between them was likely an emotional tether where unheard conversations were probably ongoing. Shiro and Adam left for the barn chatting in low tones. Lance felt Kolivan’s caution spike and looked to his face wondering what he heard, but nothing in his expression or their Bond gave him away.

Curtis smiled. “Is anyone in the mood for breakfast? I wanted to try my hand at a new recipe.”

“You’re like our caretaker,” Keith grunted. “Do you even like keeping house?”

He shrugged, “I do. There’s pleasure in the everyday. I have the choice of not doing these simple, repetitive things and yet if I don’t our isolated world collapses. It’s fascinating to me, how strong the taken-for-granted is.”

Keith groaned, “I’ll need something stronger than tea if you’re going to talk philosophy first thing in the morning.” He brushed past them.

Kolivan watched Curtis curiously. “Is this by chance your first lifetime in humanoid form?”

Something ancient seeped into Curtis’ smile then. “Am I that transparent?”

“Not at all, I had my suspicions the moment I grew aware of your nature. What you said of finding pleasure in the everyday, I believe humans have a faith known as Buddhism that speaks of taking that as a path to enlightenment…”

Lance ducked between then. “Keith? Buddy? Make that two cups of coffee, will you?”

-

“There’s a lot that I didn’t tell you about familiars prior to your summoning because there’s a lot that escapes being told.”

Lance felt humor trickle in from Kolivan. At his unvoiced query, Kolivan replayed Lance’s opinions of his teacher mentioned days before and the unnecessary imagery of Shiro throwing a screaming child into a pool.

Lance shivered with restraint. He murmured, “Yeah, you kind glossed over the _he can tell me jokes no-one else can hear_ part.”

Kolivan, sitting politely on the flood beside him eyes closed, only quirked one side of his mouth in response.

Shiro folded his hands into his pockets. “So you can communicate telepathically then?”

“It’s not always clear,” Lance touched his head. “Most of the time it’s just feelings, impulses, and I can tell if they’re directed towards me. Kolivan taught me to block out the majority of it so like, if he wants to tell me something but he can’t _tell_ me it’s like he knocks on a door in my head and I open it for him.”

Shiro was impressed. “Excellent. That’s fantastic progress. Is it only sensations and impulses?”

“I sometimes hear things. I don’t recognize all the things I hear. But like, the things I do recognize are what I remember when I visited Kolivan’s pack.”

“The same for you, Kolivan?”

Kolivan nodded. “In addition, sometimes the feelings we exchange with one another substitute verbal conversation entirely.”

“Really? When?”

“Yesterday, love.”

Lance pinked. “Oh.”

Shiro had the grace to not let his thoughts of a demon fucking his student show on his face. He moved onto the next idea with murmured praise and genuine awe and Lance wondered: _Is he going to give Kolivan the shovel talk later?_

 _I hope not,_ Kolivan’s intents replied. _Diminished in power though your teacher claims to be, he’s leagues ahead of Witch Adam and I rue the day I’d have to face him on the battlefield. I’m more than content to have him as an ally._

Some part of Lance was proud at the idea. Of Kolivan? Of Shiro? Shiro inspired some amount of fear in Kolivan even after Shiro’s obvious terror and reluctance. Was he proud of Shiro for being a strong witch despite how he saw himself? Was he proud of Kolivan for having the humility to defer to his old teacher?

_Focus, love._

Lance zoned in on Shiro again.

“…is just a side-product. You are familiar with magic being the thing that bonds all living things together—”

“Galra call it quintessence,” Lance murmured.

“So did the Alteans, who brought the science of manipulating it to humankind,” Shiro added. “It is a living energy, no different from heat or electricity, simply different in form. Every being has it. In living creatures it’s known as the soul. When you summon a familiar, the contract is drafted by exchanging a part of your soul, quintessence, or inherent magic. That tether allows abilities to flow both ways. Emotions and—eventually, as your relationship deepens—even thought flow between you two on the spiritual highway interlocking your souls. Other things can also be used on that highway: each other’s memories, each other’s knowledge, each other’s magic, theories go on to say space and time itself can be trumped by spiritual contracts.”

Lance shivered in excitement. “Like teleportation?”

“Easy, Lance.” Shiro grinned. “That’s far from your first lesson.”

Lance recoiled. “Boo!”

Kolivan smiled.

“So what _is_ today’s lesson?”

“I’m glad you asked.”

 _“Woah!”_ Lance barely caught the pear that was thrown at him. “Lunchtime already?”

“Very funny. Do you remember how to extract water out of things?”

“Yeah, was shit at it but—”

“Well, you’ve claimed you have control over your magic the past few days. Show me.”

Lance bit his lip. “Uh.”

“It’s not a challenge,” Shiro said gently. "Just try."

Lance nodded. He reached for himself. He was an isolated case, an island in a sea of power. He opened a tiny window and let some of that sea in. It splashed into his body—he knew her, she caressed him—and she ate the pear.

Lance startled awake.

Shiro unfolded his arms. “That was quick.”

As if it had spent months in the sun, the ruins of fruit lay in one hand and a globe of juice perfectly strained in the other.

“I did it,” Lance didn't believe it.

“And you captured the water too.” Shiro smiled. “Fantastic work, Lance. Kolivan, had you helped him?”

“There was a little excess energy I pulled away, yes.”

Lance’s shoulders fell.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Shiro said quickly. “That’s what your familiar is for. To support your magic. Absolute control takes a lot of practice, Lance. And you’ve advanced _phenomenally._ Over the past ten years, despite our ignorance in how your magic works, you learned well and learned quickly. And now that you’re aware of what you have, what you are, why your abilities do what they do, you’re advancing again. Sometimes you will feel as though you’ve receded, that’s part of the learning curve. Depend on us, okay?”

Lance nodded. “Okay.”

“That being said, I think you’re competent enough to give remote casting a whirl.”

Lance squinted and imagined a TV remote. Kolivan saw the image but couldn’t make out what it was, so he squinted too.

Shiro’s eyes flashed between them. “You have a question?”

Kolivan asked, “What is a TV remote?”

Shiro burst out laughing. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”

Lance stood and crushed the dehydrated pear skin in one hand and watched the orb of water shimmer in the other. “My water magic is stronger on Earth,” Lance murmured to himself. “Kolivan? What do you call the plane that you live on?”

“I believe your people call it hell.”

“That doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“On the contrary. We have dust storms that can rip flesh from bone, daylight so intense midday sears the surface, nights so cold that it snows within hours. It’s very apt.”

“You don’t have your own name for it?”

“Old records called the place Daibazaal, but that was before the calamity that reduced it to wasteland. Moreover: whether that referred to the entire planet or just the setting in which the epic occurred remains unknown. Allow me to help you with that.” He pinched Lance’s slender wrist between his thumb and forefinger and bowed to touch his lips to the surface of what was now essentially fruit juice.

As Kolivan drank Lance watched him and his snow white antlers and hair so translucent it shimmered like the surface of tropical water. His thick throat bobbed with each gulp.

Kolivan glanced up at the trickle of arousal. Lance flinched. He flinched again when Kolivan licked his empty palm, clearly flirting.

Lance blushed, “Don’t do that in front of Shiro.”

“Do what, love?”

_Asshole._

A trill of amusement followed.

Shiro, who had led them outside, was patiently standing on the edge of the forest. He looked up. “May I have that?”

And Lance frowned, but gave him what was left of the pear. Shiro plucked at it as he spoke.

“Remote casting—like the TV remote,” and Lance stuck out his tongue, “is when a witch casts a spell through their familiar. This is different from Kolivan borrowing your power to do things independently. This would be your will brought to life through Kolivan’s body rather than your own.”

Kolivan was sitting on the ground again, head bowed and eyes closed. Lance stroked an antler distractedly. Although Lance could feel calm submission dilated their Bond and allowed magic to flow freely between them, he also felt that he was making himself smaller and non-threatening for Shiro’s sake.

Shiro still wouldn’t look at Kolivan directly and his smiles were synthetic and he kept his hands in his pockets. Lance felt it more imperative now than ever to give Shiro his support through obedience. He asked, “So what, do I ask Kolivan to cast the spell for me?”

“No, you cast the spell through him. Think of your wand. The wand in the hand of a witch with a second heart such as myself directs my power to act on the outside world according to my will. In case I need to cast a spell but don’t have my wand, I would use Keith as my wand.”

Lance lit up. Wands were for harder spells, spells that required more preparation and complex ritual to be brought to fruition. They could drag on anywhere between two hours to two weeks. He looked around the clearing.

“What kinda spell did you have in mind? Rain summoning? Oh! Oh! Or _earth transmogrification._ That’s always been hard for me. Or maybe another summoning spell? Just a tiny one to summon a fairy or something?” He frowned when Shiro went to his feet and scooped some dirt together. “Uh. Turning dirt to gold? Though I read only Alteans were capable of that sort of chemical alchemy. No?”

Shiro smiled. “Do you want to keep guessing or should I tell you?”

Lance glared.

Shiro walked up to him and opened his palms. In a handful of topsoil rest the innocuous peach seed.

“You want me to grow it?”

“Yes.” And he kneeled before Kolivan, who blinked in surprise. “Kolivan, you’re the one who has to let Lance’s magic flow through you in order to grow this seed.”

 _Kinky,_ Lance thought.

Kolivan’s brow twitched and he suppressed whatever response he might have had.

He opened his palms—asymmetrical thanks to the claws he willingly broke yesterday—and the seed was dwarfed in his hands. “Is there an incantation I should know?”

“All you need to do if give Lance your consent and let his magic flow through you. The way how witches and familiars execute remote spells varies from pairing to pairing. The end goal is for Lance to be able to cast spells through you even when you’re miles apart.”

“So do I have to not look at the seed while I’m casting the spell?”

“You’re allowed to look for now. You’re just not allowed to touch.” Shiro stretched. “Give it a try. Pour your magic into and through your demon. Kolivan: keep the highway clear of anything that isn’t his magic.”

“I understand.” And he closed his eyes again, cupping the seed.

Lance sat in front of him, overthinking.

“You can be in control and calm at the same time, Lance,” Shiro’s voice drifted on the wind.

“Ssh, I’m concentrating.”

Shiro chuckled.

Lance placed one hand on his sense of self and one hand on Kolivan. He placed one hand on the bond between them and felt for the seed. Kolivan carefully led him to it… _aha._ He was holding it. Lance reached for the ether and—and his hold on Kolivan slipped.

“Damn it.”

“Its fine, love,” Kolivan murmured. “Once more.”

It was barely half a minute before Lance cursed again.

Shiro interrupted, “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

“Every time I hold the seed through Kolivan and try to reach for power I lose a hold on one or both.”

Kolivan added, “It’s like watching someone with a short arm span reach for something while holding onto something else.”

“My arm span is _fine_ that you very much!” And he reached for Kolivan’s nose.

Kolivan jerked away and licked his hand. Lance shrieked.

“It’s because you’re bridging a gap between two external forces, I’d wager,” Shiro speculated aloud. “Your source of magic isn’t internal, so you have to reach _outside your body_ for it. You can’t touch the seed directly, so you have to reach through Kolivan to get it. And then, even if you do touch both ends of this line successfully, you have to keep holding on for the duration of the spell.”

“I don’t get it. It’s right here! I know how to reach for Kolivan. I know how to reach for the ether.”

“But to reach for both at once? And to _sustain_ it?”

Lance groaned, “So I have to stretch myself out?”

 _Kinky,_ Kolivan returned.

Lance coughed in his elbow to disguise a laugh.

Shiro likely knew there was another conversation ongoing with how obvious they were being. “It is a matter of practice. And _patience._ Be gentle with yourself and take your time. When you’ve succeeded at that…then we’ll talk about renegotiating your residency.”

Kolivan perked up. “Do you mean to say that this would be the last lesson you have to teach Lance?”

Shiro smiled sadly. “We’ll talk about it. After,” and he ruffled Lance’s hair, “you’re comfortable with remote casting.”

Lance stuck out his tongue. “Yes sir!”

-

The angles of the sunlight freckled shadows changed again. Kolivan was reclined, indifferent to the passage of time. His hair cascaded over roots to long grass. His skin had adopted the smell of the grass too, and his antlers were heavy with crowns of flowering weeds Lance made in between attempts. A bee settled on one antler and then was off.

Lance lay between Kolivan’s legs, cheek against his fleshy tummy. Kolivan’s tail embraced him.

At last, “I can’t do it.”

Kolivan pinched him.

 _“Ow._ What—”

“I will not tolerate anyone speaking poorly of my Bonded.”

Lance grunted and fell face down. Kolivan rubbed his hair with quiet delight. _Soft fluffy pliant_ leaked into their Bond before Kolivan cast the ideas aside. Beside them in a lonely pot lay the inert seed.

“Maybe it’s dead.”

“No, I can feel a potential for life in it.”

Lance did too, but he was tired of only touching its _potential_. He wormed his hands under Kolivan’s body to squeeze at his ass cheeks in a bid to console himself. Kolivan projected a glimmer of amusement then warm contentment. “Kolivan?”

“Yes?”

“Is Antok the only one you’ve ever been married to?”

“Yes, but he has not been my only sexual partner. There was a magic-user I was Bonded to centuries ago with whom I was intimate.”

Lance frowned. “So…having sex with your witch is common?”

“No,” Kolivan rubbed his shoulders. “No, love. I am attracted to _you._ I am besotted with _you._ That a lover of my past also happened to be a magic-user and we chose one another is utterly unrelated. You are not a replacement. I can feel you thinking it. You are not. Feel me. You are not.”

Lance rubbed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize. I know the negative feelings can rise unbidden. I have been there. But I need you to understand that I adore _you._ While past relationships and experiences have shaped me into the man I am today, I dare say it is in spite of those experiences that I chose you and to be intimate with you rather than because of them.”

Lance nodded. “What…happened? To the other magic user I mean? Were they human too?”

“No. She was Altean. She severed our contract when she went to a higher plane. I could not follow.”

Lance looked up in alarm. “She _left_ you?”

“Her apotheosis was…necessary at the time.”

“She’s dead?”

“She lives, but she lives on a plane of existence that would destroy beings like you and I. In…breaking our Bond she saved me. All the same, despite that I understood, my heart was still broken, and it took a long time to love again. Antok was my friend during my worst moments, and later my lover, husband and father of my children.”

Lance sighed. Kolivan stroked his hair. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“So am I. Sometimes…I still love her. I miss her. But I respect her decisions and she is in my past. I am more than happy to devote myself to you.”

Lance blushed. “I’ll never leave you.”

“You cannot promise that, but the fact that I can tell you mean it from the bottom of your heart makes me the happiest man alive.”

Lance twisted his fingers in Kolivan’s shirt and wished he could promise and prove that he’d stay by Kolivan’s side forever. He wanted to. Was it really impossible? Was it too drastic to say after three days together? But this was no passing fancy. This was not a fallible crush.

He let the feelings of passion and frustration ebb away.

“Kiss me.”

Lance smiled. “We’re supposed to be practicing.”

“So we are. Shiro had never specified at what, however.”

Lance grinned and crawled up the valleys and planes of hard alien musculature. “When we first met I never would have guessed you were a flirt.”

“You’ve rubbed off on me, I think. I’m usually far more contained.” Kolivan wet Lance’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

Lance sighed and whimpered at the slow drag. He slipped his hands up Kolivan’s magnificent breasts, hollow clavicle and the front of his pale throat. Kolivan grasped his hips urgently, fingers spanning to cup each ass cheek easily. Lance tilted his head, spread his legs, and sucked Kolivan’s tongue into his mouth.

Dominance passed back and forth between them. One moment Kolivan’s claws against his inner thighs made him melt, another moment his kisses on Kolivan’s throat made the demon shudder. Minutes into a lazy make-out Kolivan was using his clawless fingers to rub at an obvious damp shape in the seat of Lance’s trousers and Lance was rocking back on it while painting hickies on a thick neck.

Lance whispered over the singing of the magpies: “Can I, uhm. Ride you?”

Kolivan sobered. He grasped Lance to his body. “You mean for me to penetrate you.”

“ _God_ don’t say it like _that…!”_

“Lance, are you certain? There is no need to rush.”

Lance grasped Kolivan’s wrist and worked his hips. Kolivan’s eyes lidded. His fingers bent under the shape of Lance’s labia.

“Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sprinkles on top and a scattering of gummy bears with—”

Kolivan put his other hand over Lance’s head. “Stop that,” he chuckled.

Lance’s voice was muffled, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

_“Yess!”_

Kolivan tilted his hips up—Lance toppled forward, off balance. His feet were clear off the ground unless he extended his toes. How long would it take him before he remembered how _huge_ his familiar was?

A spike of arousal resonated between them both like a gong.

When Lance glanced up Kolivan was already looking at him. “Was that you or me?”

“Me,” but he sounded unsure. “I like how small you are.”

“ _Mmm_ I like how big _you_ are.”

“It was both of us, then.”

“Wow, it sounded like a crash!”

Kolivan took himself in hand. “If you wish to stop at any time, tell me.”

“Yes, Koli.” And he scooched back and reached behind him.

One of the issues with Kolivan being so much bigger than him was that it was impossible to ride and kiss him at the same time. What he _could_ reach however were his nipples. He grinned mischievously and reached one metaphysical hand for the ether.

He reached one real hand for Kolivan’s cock. It was slick and sticky with pre-cum, hot enough to sear his skin and pulsing as though touch-starved. And he was _hard. Deliciously_ hard. Lance looked over his shoulder at its unusual and beautiful shape. Tapered and fat. He rubbed his hand in a loose hold down and up in wonder.

Kolivan’s tail thrashed. “Don’t tease me, love,” he grit.

“Sorry, it’s just. It’s pretty.” He positioned himself before Kolivan accumulated a response.

Kolivan’s hands snatched back of Lance’s knees. He waited with bated breath. Lance rocked himself down with more swiftness than Kolivan was expecting. He flinched.

Lance looked up. Had Kolivan had a corona that was as deep as Lance had thus far taken him. “What?”

Kolivan blinked, “Perhaps…a little slower?”

Lance stared him straight in the face and moved _sinfully._ He kept his hands braced on Kolivan’s taut stomach while he carted his hips back and forth in the cadence of an aria. He moaned.

Kolivan, drunk of Lance’s music, bit his lip and stroked Lance’s strong thighs. _Beautiful,_ he thought of his strength and grace and adoration. _Wonderful._ Beneath his soft words were ideas and feelings far less elegant.

Lance sighed, “You feel _way_ better than a toy…”

“How?” Kolivan demanded huskily. “Tell me.”

“You’re hot,” he whimpered. “And it’s _throbbing oh,_ and I and I can feel you trying not to fuck me and you’re holding me—”

Kolivan slipped his hands up to his hips. He could circle his body entirely.

Lance’s skin caught fire. He pulsed and tightened and twisted around the member. _“Yes…”_

Then their pubic hair came together. Lance fell forward and rested his head on Kolivan’s body. The black fire spread—though it alit on the grass the grass did not burn. Kolivan sighed a high pitched gasp and Lance groaned low and heady. They rocked their hips at the same time and sparks flew everywhere—literal and metaphorical.

Lance fell into the rhythm of lifting and dropping his buttocks, fucking himself on Kolivan’s length. Kolivan hugged him and grunted. Tensions spiraled up his arms, down his legs, licked at his spine. Lance was _wet._ Added to their whispers of approval were the messy shlops and eager smacking of happy flesh.

“Like that,” Kolivan chanted. Lance whined. His fingers sought purchase on skin and he found a nipple: he pinched and ice burst forth.

Kolivan shouted and bucked up. Lance gasped in turn. Kolivan was alarmed and apologetic for half a second, but Lance’s surprise melted into ardor and so Kolivan thrust into Lance once more and then again until he was a slave to a magic older than time.

Lance’s cold hand tortured one nipple and his hot palm embraced the other. He grit his teeth as Kolivan utterly took over thrusting with abandon. Kolivan’s cock seemed to have grown ribs or bumps between penetration and now because there was a new sensation that seemed to be aiming towards his bladder that sent fireworks airborne on every other thrust.

“I-if you want to,” Lance hiccupped around interrupted breath, “you can go harder—”

“I don’t, ha--unf, oh! I don't want to hurt you.”

 _Oh! His voice!_ Lance whined. His voice was dark, gritty, like he spent the night drinking and was barely holding himself together. Something undomesticated had possessed Kolivan. Lance daren’t put it on a leash.

He whispered: “Hurt me.”

With permission granted so wholly, Kolivan twisted Lance onto his back, blocked out the sun and performed with his everything. Something was released—Lance felt it all _._ Now he could not help shouting in time to Kolivan’s fevered bucking.

And still! Beneath all the ceaseless _want_ and _hunger_ and _mine mine mine_ there was genuine affection and gratitude and love for the little witch that had accepted him with open arms. A hand latched onto Lance’s throat and teeth in his shoulder and Lance accepted it. He shouted and dug his nails into Kolivan’s skin and was barely on the ground anymore—“Kolivan Kolivan _Kolivan—”_

Lance came, convulsed violently, and he was terrified when it did not instantly stop. Instead his orgasm persisted and his body was seized while Kolivan fucked him through it. Gratuitous release turned to fear: would the pleasure ever stop?

Kolivan could taste what was wrong. Magic was caught up in the vortex shape of Lance’s soul. He was sucking in sucking in power but he wasn’t directing it and somehow his orgasm had latched onto it, and was now gradually turning into pain.

He put his lips over Lance’s to take a sip—

_“Ah!”_

No! The seals—damn them. They were barring him from taking more than what Adam had deemed fit for a daily meal.

Lance started shivering beneath him. His thoughts were fading away being replaced by a growing fear fear fear. Kolivan could touch the power but he couldn’t dismantle it. How—?

Kolivan saw the seed.

When Lance’s orgasm finally broke he burst into tears. He sobbed loudly into Kolivan’s chest and he held him, soothed him, kissed him until he was dry and tired. He was still trapped in Kolivan’s embrace and he wished he could fall into it. He wished they could be one.

“Keep a hold of yourself, love,” Kolivan rasped quietly.

Lance didn’t want to. It took too much effort. But with the kisses and kitten licks at his temple and ear he found himself laughing and falling back into his own body.

He made to stretch one leg and a spiral of sharp pleasure carted up from his loins. He also felt unfathomably full and realized Kolivan was still fully seated within him. “Oh,” he sighed. “You haven’t come yet?”

“I have. I just did not want to leave you, yet.” With palpable reluctance: “Do you want me to withdraw?”

 _“No!”_ Lance wrapped his arms around his neck. “Stay.”

“I will.”

“I feel so tired,” Lance yawned. “And sore.” He shook his hips in a shallow useless dance.

“ _Mm,_ careful. Don’t start me up again. I’m unsure if I could do that twice.”

Lance laughed. “What happened? I felt…trapped for a minute.”

“You were drawing magic in but not redirecting it. It was staying in you, building. I only just managed to redirect it.”

“You couldn’t eat it?”

Kolivan lifted a hand for Lance to inspect. Over his wrists were Adam’s runes still intact but now wet with Kolivan’s blue blood.

Lance gasped and held his wrist, healing it without a thought, without a word. Anger flared in him. “I’ll get Adam to remove them tonight.”

“I chose to—”

“And _I_ choose that my own damn familiar shouldn’t have these cuffs on him if he’s going to get hurt protecting me! Adam doesn’t have a say in that and if he think he does I’ll break them myself. Don’t fight me,” he glared. Kolivan closed his mouth and forgot whatever he was about to say. “I don’t like you sacrificing anything for me. I thought I could watch you do it but I can’t. I love my coven but this isn’t the right place for you. We’re going home.”

Kolivan hummed and kissed his forehead. _Home,_ as if Lance had already lived there. Home, because Lance knew he belonged where Kolivan belonged. He licked at his lips. “If I hadn’t made love to you already I would now.”

Lance smiled and kissed him. He was tangling his fingers in platinum hair when a thought cropped up: _but where did Kolivan redirect the energy to?_

“Look for yourself,” and with a finger he directed his sight to the side.

Standing in the broken remains of the lonely pot was an adult, blossoming pear tree.


	6. The Heartless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance graduates.

Shiro sat with three open tomes and the mirror on dial. When the visage rippled from a reflection of his study to the face of his old teacher, he straightened and smiled.

“Takashi!” Samuel Holt cried, “I haven’t heard from you in a long time! _Too_ long.”

“Hi Sam. I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to reach out.”

“No no, not at all! I’m just happy to hear from you.” And the twinkle in his eyes showed he meant it. “How are you? How’s Adam and Keith?”

“They’re great. Adam summoned his new familiar since we last spoke. An air selkie named Curtis.”

Sam was impressed. He whistled. “How long as it been? I know wind elemental demons tend to rebel against earthly tethers.”

“Curtis so far is enamored by said earthly tethers but maybe that’s because from day one Adam gave him the freedom to leave their contract anytime he chose. With the choice to go, he stays.”

“Smart lad. And Keith’s settled?”

“More than settled. We’ve both come a long way. I’d be a different man altogether if it weren’t for him.”

Sam’s shoulders and smile softened. “It’s good that you have family, Takashi. It’s no good living in the wilds all alone.”

Shiro hummed. “Speaking of family, how’s Matt and Katie? And the last I heard of Colleen she was developing plants that mimicked human voices.”

“Oh, that project took off. She’s been on tour enjoying the life of a scientist-celebrity. And Matt went with her: it’s the first time he’s left the island. Pidge has stayed with me, tinkering in my lab. We get into an argument every other day.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh it is,” he said genuinely. “She comes up with the most creative solutions to problems. She’s not at home now, otherwise I’d ask her to see your face.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. I have something to ask you.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up?”

“I need information,” Shiro shook his head. “Is your line secure?”

“Always. What can I do for you?”

“Ten years ago I took in an apprentice.”

Sam gasped, “I thought you said you were done after Adam.”

“I was, but his mother was insistent. She said that the Garrison had sent her notice they were going to recruit her son and that she didn’t want any of her children being soldiers. I…empathized and took him in. In a way I’m glad I did. It took three years before we could teach him to corral his powers enough so that he didn’t burn or flood the house in his sleep, but that control had always been tenuous at best, I think Garrison might have thought him a liability and sent him to the hospitals if I didn’t get him.”

Sam frowned in a mix of intrigue and horror. “Where is that boy now? Is he still with you?”

“Yes. I recently asked him to summon a familiar in the hopes that learning to channel magic through a demon would teach him restraint, control and patience.”

Sam nodded. “Not what I would have done but I understand your reasoning. And did it work?”

“Yes…” Shiro frowned, wondering where to begin. “But not in the way I expected. He summoned a Galra.”

“A Galra!” and then Sam looked over his shoulder in fear that he’d been overheard. “It’s just as well you live in the middle of nowhere. Sanda already isn’t fond of you, if she finds that you’re harboring not one but _two_ Galra she’ll take it as a threat against all mankind and—”

“I’m well aware of what Sanda’s righteous justice looks like,” Shiro sighed impatiently.

Sam sat back with an apologetic look. “What happened next?”

Shiro told him. He told him of the argument he had with his apprentice, how his apprentice disappeared for less than a week before reappearing with not only his familiar in tow but with more control than ever and a curious condition that explained it.

“He doesn’t have a second heart?! That’s _impossible!”_

“And yet…” Shiro shook his head. “I don’t know why Adam and I had never tried to run diagnostics on his second heart before. It’s just…magic flowed through him fine, we could tell it was never an ailment of his second heart. Now we know why: he doesn’t have one.”

“How do you know this?”

“A physician told him when he was away from us. Lance claims that Kolivan’s pack is outfitted with not only Galra but demons of all types _and_ witches and, apparently, one Altean.”

Sam blanched. “An Altean? But they left our worlds during the Ascension…!”

“This one was denied apotheosis, if I had to guess, or maybe he denied godhood himself. In either case, they’ve seen evidence of witches like Lance before. It’s how they were able to diagnose him.”

Sam sat back and scratched at his beard. He’d aged in the decade and a half Shiro hadn’t seen him but his eyes and hands were still sharp with wonder. “I’ve never heard of this before. I’ll have to research more about it and get back to you.”

“If it helps, Lance describes it as being a conduit for the ether itself. He always used to describe the life force in the air as something with will, he’d call it “she” for example, and says she responds to him when he casts a spell.”

“He doesn’t produce his own source of magic,” Sam rubbed his cheek. Shiro could hear the stubble. “By Willow, does that mean that just _anyone_ could manipulate magic? That witches aren’t absolute?”

“That theory has been ongoing since it was discovered that the mundane could create potions.”

“ _Alchemy_ is distinct from _magic._ Alchemy is a craft, a science. Magic is talent: you can’t _learn_ your eye colour.”

Shiro didn’t refute. “Can you dig up information for me, Sam? Discreetly? My books have nothing on the subject.”

“Of course, Shiro. It sounds so fascinating—I’m surprised it’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Demons have longer lives and memories than us, they probably have among them beings when those types of witches were commonplace.” He paused in thought. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

Sam’s image disappeared from the mirror and was replaced with the reflection of Adam slipping through the study doors.

Shiro turned and leaned up into his greeting kiss.

“Dr. Holt didn’t know about Lance’s…condition either?”

“No,” Shiro shifted a heavy book from his lap and pulled Adam to replace it. “It bothers me but at the same time I’m relieved. At least we know why so many of Lance’s practice spells in the past didn’t work. Now that I know, I can teach him around it. If he’s still willing to have me for a teacher anyway.”

“Why wouldn’t he listen to you? Didn’t today’s lesson go well?”

“Yes. Lance was an excellent student. As always. He’s interested, learned, enthusiastic. And Kolivan was a graceful supporter. But Lance has improved _drastically_ over the two days we missed him and I think by the end of the week he’ll have graduated.”

Adam scoffed. “There’s too much for him to catch up on. He has control, and power, and the values you instilled in him, but there was so much you couldn’t teach him until he reached this level of competency. He needs you now more than ever!”

“ _Does_ he? Lance has a choice now between us and Kolivan’s pack.”

“Lance is just excited. He’s able to do in a moment what before he couldn’t do in a month. He’s drunk on possibility. I’d wager that’s part of why Kolivan was so eager to get Lance here because he knows that Lance needs your guidance. _Your_ guidance, Takashi.”

Shiro pressed his nose to Adam’s chest and pressed a kiss to the skin he tasted there. “What would I do without you?”

“Worry yourself into a panic attack and force Keith to throw you into a cold shower.”

Shiro chuckled. He kissed Adam’s chest again, then delicately peeled the cotton to one side to suckle a nipple.

Adam sighed and laced his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. “Now?”

Shiro locked the study doors with a thought. “I need you.”

Adam shivered. He grasped Shiro’s hair as his lips closed around a nipple lovingly and his hands slid from his hip to the inside of his thigh. Adam parted his legs for him.

_Knock-knock._

Adam tested his mental shielding despite himself. It was common nature to block Curtis out when he was gearing up to be intimate with Takashi, and when Curtis was aware but had to disturb him he knocked on their spiritual connection as one might on a door.

Shiro felt him freeze. “What is it?”

“Curtis,” as he said so he waved a hand and the doors unlatched and swung open. “Come in.”

Adam didn’t bother to rescue their decency. He stood with his shirt unbuttoned and Curtis cast them an indifferent smile.

“What’s that?”

“Lance and Kolivan came in a while ago with a basket of pears. I thought I’d try to make some pies from it. The rest I’ll be making into drink and preserves. Would you like a slice?”

Shiro frowned. “I gave them an assignment to do.”

“I was told they completed it,” Curtis set the tray aside. “They’d come to report to you but Keith dissuaded them saying that he could feel that you were intensely focused and wouldn’t appreciate being disturbed.”

“Could you call them for me, please?”

“They’re not at the house at the moment. Lance said the tub was too small so they went to the river to bathe.” Curtis produced a slice for each of them. “Should I summon them anyway?”

“No, never mind.” He was pensive until he took the first bite. “Oh!”

“ _Mm._ Mm! Fantastic, Curtis.”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“I didn’t know our pear tree was bearing again. Isn’t this the wrong season?”

“It’s from the tree Kolivan and Lance grew.”

Shiro stopped enjoying the pie.

Adam nodded appreciatively. “Nice.”

“They grew a _tree?”_

Curtis paused, “At least, that’s what they told me.”

“Is something wrong, Takashi?”

“I didn’t expect them to grow a _tree_ through _remote casting_ in a single _day,_ is all,” he dropped his face in his hands.

Adam laughed. “Looks like you have a prodigy on your hands!”

Shiro smiled. “And here I was hoping that you were the last I had to deal with.”

Adam smacked him lightly. “I’m almost offended.”

“Prodigies are a headache. They’re always testing their limits and running away to look for a challenge and stealing personal property.”

Curtis asked softly, “There’s something I’m confused about. I was under the impression that you and Adam worked together in the war. I wasn’t aware that you had the relationship of apprentice and master.”

“It’s more like mentor,” Shiro corrected. “Garrison had a buddy program to take some of the heat off the teachers who were few and far in between. Our grades were hooked together because I was top of the class and he was the worst, so I had to whip him into shape.”

Adam muttered, “Not that he’s bragging or anything.”

Shiro smiled to himself. “I’d appreciate if you could let Lance and Kolivan know I’d like to speak with them when they come back.”

“Of course,” he collected Adam’s empty plate. “Another slice?”

“No, it’s alright,” and he reached for Shiro’s.

To prevent the pie from falling into enemy hands, Shiro demolished it in one bite.

Adam screamed: “You uncultured swine!”

Shiro’s cheeks were too fat for him to reply.

Curtis smiled, “I’ll cut you another slice then.”

-

Kolivan sat in the frigid water black with silt and leaves. The river was deep enough that he could submerge himself completely, but he stayed to the shadows and upstream of where Lance was beating their clothes against the rocks.

“It’s pretty hot today,” Lance sang. “So it won’t take more than an hour for the clothes to dry if I wring it out properly.”

Kolivan replied, “I thought witches had use of magic for chores like these.”

“I do, and I can, but Shiro taught me that it’s good to do it with your hands from time you time. It’s like, if your body forgets how to do it your magic forgets too. I dunno how true that is, I think he just wants me to build character by raking up the leaves and scrubbing the bathroom on my knees but whatever—he and Adam do it too so there’s probably a good reason for it.”

“A method to the madness,” Kolivan whispered to the air. A robin twittered overhead.

Lance brought a clothes line along with the basket, soap and wooden paddle. Kolivan’s robes made a satisfying _crack_ against the breeze.

“How are clothes cleaned in Daibazaal?”

“We have laundries,” Kolivan replied. He looked up and back when Lance’s voice tread close. “Demons unfit or uninterested in familiar work usually take up the roles of preserving our infrastructure. Washing everyone’s clothes is a part of that. It is a role of great prestige.”

“It is?”

“It’s hard work. Hard work begets respect.”

“It’s backwards here,” Lance joined him in the shallows. “If you get grunt work like that it’s considered unskilled labor. Adam says it’s a thousand year conspiracy. There’s a reason why work that you can only get if you have the money to go to school is considered the height of accomplishment, and _unskilled labor_ is like, the dumps.”

“What does unskilled labor mean in this context?”

“Uh, it’s work for people who haven’t got academic qualifications. People like janitors or farmers or garbage men…”

“Those are roles of great respect.” Kolivan frowned. “Without them we would be living in our own filth, destitute and diseased.”

Lance nodded. “Not here. I mean, the respect part, not the dirt part.”

“I see why you want to leave.”

Lance laughed.

Kolivan stroked his wet hand through his hair. Lance shuffled forward until he had a cheek braced against Kolivan’s cool side. “Do you regret coming here?”

“No.” He twiddled with his fingers. He blushed, “You were right. I’m glad got to resolve some stuff with them.”

“The conversations are far from over.”

“Yeah,” Lance paused. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Family is important to us. Literally we would be dead without one another to depend on. The way how I understand how your pack operates, it’s no different here. Some things are inverted, and you have green forests and isolation where we have scorching desert and storms, but interdependence is the same.” He looked down at Lance. “They will suffer without you.”

“They got along fine before I got here,” Lance said speculatively and without heat.

“Yes, but they didn’t know you then. They know you now. There is a Lance-shaped space in their hearts. When you go they will feel it.”

“Are you trying to tell me to stay?”

“No. I’m trying to tell you that when you go you will be missed. I’m trying to help you consider that staying is an option.” He rubbed his wrists.

“Do they still hurt?”

“No.” His smile was slight. “May I ask you to comb my hair?”

“I’d love to!” He sloshed to his feet. “But I don’t have a…”

“In the pocket on my belt you’ll find an ivory comb.”

Lance teased, “You walk around with a comb? I never pegged you as the type who thought much about his beauty.” Not that Kolivan had to try very hard, Lance thought.

Kolivan sent him a furtive look upon hearing it. “Cleanliness goes a long way in barring infection. And it is also a sentimental piece.”

Lance found it and could see why. Large in his hands, the comb was a half-moon of iridescent bone. It had engravings in it and inlays of black and red stones Lance couldn’t identify.

“It was a Bonding gift from my previous Bonded. Allura.” He whispered with reverence and a slight roll to the R. “She had that commissioned for me by her father, the Father of Alchemy himself. It was forged from the seventh vertebra of a weblum Allura defeated and embedded with the crystalized blood of a hunter engineered to kill Galra that I defeated. She had its identical companion.”

Lance held it in both hands. He stood wide-eyed and quiet. “I feel like I shouldn’t touch it.”

“Touch it. Use it. You have our abundant permission.”

“Our?”

“Allura still lives. That you can touch it means she approves of you.”

“What! What!” Lance danced in place trying to throw and not throw the comb at the same time. “I thought you said she was dead!”

“Ascended.”

“She can _feel_ me?”

“She can feel all things.”

“What, she’s like a god or something?”

“Or something. She is omniscient.” He took the comb from Lance. It didn’t look as big in Kolivan’s hands. Was Allura’s comb just as big? How big were Alteans anyway? “When she ascended, she went to a plane in which the only thing that exists is living energy. It is the space between realities, a void that supports existence itself. She is energy, the energy you feel and see and taste around us.”

Something dawned on Lance as he looked into Kolivan’s face. “She’s the ether.”

“She is the ether,” Kolivan nodded. He tilted his head up to the sunlight.

Lance reached a metaphysical hand into the world. The world answered, pooling into his palm. She felt like a child’s heart anxious to play, or the breathing belly of a puppy full of wonder, or the hand of a woman shaking his hand gratuitously.

Was it—and Lance might have kicked himself for thinking it—but he always thought of the ether as a her. The Ascension happened long before his birth. Might…might the _she_ he had always felt…was it her? Was it Allura?

Allura.

That the power at his fingertips had a name boggled his mind. She was— _is—_ a living thing. Was she still a being? Was she still conscious?

“She is. She is aware. She is sentient. She is omniscient.”

Lance made a face. “She’s been watching us.”

“Most definitely.”

“Voyeur!” Lance shouted.

Kolivan smiled.

And perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Lance thought the power he was holding giggled too.

-

Adam removed the seals the moment Lance recounted the story. He didn’t even look to Shiro for permission. Kolivan lifted his wrists and Adam danced his wand over it until the seals evaporated.

“Thank you,” Lance said.

Adam shook his head. “I apologize. To both of you. This never should have injured you or inhibited your growth. I failed you both and I can never say sorry enough.”

“It was for the safety of all involved—”

“Kolivan,” Adam interrupted, “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Kolivan paused then inclined his head.

Shiro said, “I’m sorry too, Kolivan. I treated you like a criminal.”

Kolivan sighed, “I understand. Our people have hurt one another for a long time. And you two have seen an especially horrific side to my people, I understand why you reacted the way you did.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” Shiro smiled. “Thank you for tolerating us at our worst.”

“If that was your worst I have _you_ to thank. I’ve been through worse.”

Lance, curled on the armless chair beside him, stuck his neck up from the nest of his arms and knees. “ _What_ worse?”

“It is a long story. I was a prisoner of war a few times.”

“A _few_ times!”

“I’ve lived a long time, love.”

Lance stared curiously.

“Right then,” Shiro commanded attention of the room. Curtis and Keith were in attendance loitering by the windows. Adam was getting fat on his eighth slice of pie. “You finished the assignment I gave you. That, and sixteen more lessons after that, will be tests of your skill, after which you’ll be proficient enough to unlock more spells and more enchantments that you’ll teach yourself when you become independent. At the rate of things, you’ll no longer be my apprentice within the next few weeks.” He smiled sadly. “How do you feel about that?”

“Bittersweet,” Lance answered honestly.

“When a witch becomes independent they have the right to leave their coven. They also have the right to stay, but when they stay they participate as an equal, which means more would be demanded of you. Whether for better or worse though, our coven doesn’t have much to do and, therefore, not much to offer. Several years ago I would have told you to go out into the world but now that you have Kolivan I figure you’ll go with him.”

“Uh,” Lance looked down. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Shiro blinked. “You ran away before, are you having second thoughts?”

“It’s just…I dunno. I dunno what I want. Travelling sounds nice but that also sounds hard.”

“It’s challenging, especially since you haven’t seen a lot of the world since you came here. We can help you prepare for that journey if that’s what you want.”

Lance nodded.

“But the biggest thing about your independence in particular is about the Garrison. They wanted you for themselves ten years ago and if and when you decide to travel our plane they’ll take notice of a powerful, unregistered witch. It’ll be dangerous for you, never mind your Galra familiar, although there are glamour spells that can remedy that.”

Kolivan arched a brow.

“They change how you look to others,” Shiro translated. “But it wouldn’t hide your power, and it wouldn’t disguise you from witches of a higher level than the one who cast the glamour.”

Kolivan said, “Level?”

“Witches are ranked on a scale of one to ten based on their inert power and the skills they know. Skills are ranked too. They take an exam which tests a witch’s knowledge, power and range and they are ranked accordingly. As their knowledge and strength increases, they may take the test again.”

“What’s the point of being tested again?” Lance asked.

Adam replied, “The higher the rank the more reliable the witch is considered to be and the more they’re approached for business. It’s also an ego thing.”

“What rank are you guys?”

“I’m at seven. Shiro is a monster who ranked at nine.”

“It’s because I’ve spent all my free time learning spells and enchantments,” Shiro said quickly. “If it were based on fortitude alone I’d be ranked far lower.”

Adam grumbled, “What, like eight point nine?”

Shiro shot him an amused look.

Lance perked up. “What do you think I am?”

“With your unlimited access to magic?” Keith scoffed. “You’d be off the charts.”

Lance glared.

“Keith has a point,” Adam said around a bite of pie. “Your unique condition means that a lot of the instruments would misinterpret your capabilities. My bet is you’ll either rank really really lowly or scary high.”

“At the same time, registering grants you a sort of protection from Garrison. They don’t go after witches that are already spoken for. If you decide to register, which you’ll have to do if you want to travel, I recommend registering under Shirogane Coven.”

Kolivan frowned, “Would that be enough?”

“Legally Sanda wouldn’t be able to touch you.”

“Who’s Sanda?”

“An old superior,” Shiro rolled his eyes. “A power hungry vindictive woman who won’t settle for anything less than world domination.”

“She’s a dangerous enemy to have. Associating you with Shiro’s name is a double-edged sword. They don’t like each other.”

Shiro grumbled, “Blow up a facility running illegal human-demon experimentation _one time_ and you’re branded as a mortal enemy for life.”

Keith replied, “You did more than just blow up Garrison HQ, you set back her research by fifty years and ruined her reputation.”

Shiro mimed Keith’s words with a sneer.

But Lance only had stars in his eyes. “Shiro!”

Shiro startled.

“You’re so badass!”

Shiro paused, then blushed. “Thanks. I was… _anyway:_ before you can even _think_ about registering you need to finish those lessons and figure out where you want to go. Also, just to keep you informed, I told an old friend about your ability. A trusted friend. He’s doing research into witches on second hearts.”

Lance asked, “Do you want us to ask the people at Kolivan’s pack for what they know?”

“Would you? It would mean a lot if we could cross-reference resources.”

“I can leave tonight,” Kolivan nodded. His breath caught at the flare of dread and misery that seized his heart. It was gone as abruptly as it began leaving cold static in its wake. He pressed a hand to his sternum.

“Thank you,” Shiro said and stood. “And Lance: I’m so proud of you. And I know your family would be too.”

Grief and melancholy seeped through their empathetic connection again, sweeping away the sharp terror from before. “Thank you, Shiro,” Lance whispered.

Shiro smiled and rubbed his hair.

-

Lance dropped smoothly to a stoop and drew a perfect circle with a flick of his arm. He was scribbling instructions on the circumference when a low heat simmered in his belly. He frowned. He happened to glance up in the middle of sketching another circle and caught Kolivan’s stare from across the room.

Lance staggered.

His demon was colossal but sat reclined and lazy among Lance’s teddy bears. They did very little to soften the carnal angles at the corners of his mouth and eyes and knuckles on which his cheek was pillowed.

Lance sat up, still crouched on his toes, and stared at Kolivan with a bucked eyebrow. “ _What?”_

Kolivan widened his eyes mildly and tilted his head.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I enjoy watching witches at work.” Kolivan replied. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

It was the truth. Lance shook his head, “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Kolivan didn’t reply, confused.

Lance grit his teeth behind his pout. He returned to drawing and writing in chalk on the floorboards of his bedroom. He’d pierced realities twice now, the second time going much smoother than the first thanks to Slav’s guidance, and after Adam offered additional pointers he knew this time would go smoother still.

Drawing in chalk rather than chicken blood and in discord with perfect celestial alignments meant that he’d have to use more blunt force to get Kolivan to Daibazaal. He had the full moon to help him summon Kolivan, and then he had Daibazaal’s moons to help them get to Earth, but now neither was in his favor. The magic of the world now flowed different, flowed against him.

This meant he’d be fatigued for the next few days. He was thinking of that when a tendril of lust tickled at his consciousness again.

He looked up sharply.

Kolivan didn’t blink.

“Are you doing it on purpose?”

Kolivan’s brow flattened. “Doing _what?”_

Annoyance and concern now. Lance stood and stalked over to him. Kolivan’s eyes flickered once to exposed clavicle and a burst of desire accompanied it, but that aside he was overwhelmingly focused on Lance, even mildly apprehensive.

“Do you have your shields up?”

Kolivan jerked. “Yes. You can still feel me?”

“Yes,” Lance nodded. He collapsed into Kolivan’s embrace. They teetered into the nest of linens.

“Oof,” Kolivan said.

“What does this mean?”

“In my experience, it means that our Bond has grown even stronger.”

“What, that we’re better friends now?”

“It means that the wavelengths of our souls grow more synchronized by the day. It can be dangerous if we lose sight of ourselves. Time apart would do us good.”

Lance recoiled.

Kolivan smiled and kissed his lips. “I don’t _enjoy_ being apart from you, love.”

“What’s so bad about _losing sight_ of each other, what does that even mean?”

“When we made love yesterday,” and Lance blushed because he’d never heard it being referred to so _affectionately,_ “you remember I told you to contain yourself? To not lose yourself to the Bond?”

He nodded.

“If you don’t keep a hold of yourself you can lose your identity. It is…an odd thing. I’ve never had it happen to me, but I’ve seen it happen to other pairs. Their personalities blend. They become the same person stretched over two bodies. When they’re apart it physically ails them. I find it undesirable. I don’t want that to happen to you. I love _you_ all your flaws and insecurities and courage and wit: I don’t want to lose you to anyone, not even to me.”

“But I’d still be me.”

“No, you wouldn’t. There would be traces of you but you, _you,”_ and he brushed his hands over Lance’s shoulders, “you would be dead.”

Lance swallowed.

“I do not like that you can feel me at any moment. Perhaps Adam can teach us blocking spells, something more fortifying than mental shields.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll look it up tomorrow.”

Kolivan was on his back and Lance on his chest, their default position. His tail was latched to Lance’s ankle and his breathing made Lance feel as if he were riding a wave on his surfboard. Lance didn’t register when they started kissing but the soft fluttering sensations passing back and forth between them reminded him even more of the foam of the sea.

“I can taste the beach on your lips,” Kolivan whispered.

“Have you ever been to the beach?” He licked Kolivan’s bottom lip as he replied.

Careful not to dislodge Lance’s mouth from his own, his words slurred, “Once, a long time ago. At a craggy coast with black rock.”

“Sounds awful.”

“It was cold and windy and we flew kites.”

Lance smiled at the imagery of Kolivan flying kites. Kolivan provided him with the memory: grey stormy skies, a battered coast, and creepy rock formations that would be at home in a horror story of some north European country. The two kites were spots of colour in a monochrome world. One was pink and the other a gay purple.

“Was that with Allura?”

“Yes. We were travelling a world that used to be known as Altea. It was her birthplace and had collapsed and been reborn. She took me there to show me where what is now mountain and sea had been expansive cities engineered from the cell up.”

“How does a whole _plane of existence_ collapse?”

“The Alteans, like the Lifegivers who came before them, tinkered with the mechanics of existence. When they went a little too far Mother Nature reset. It decimated Altean numbers. That was the event that forced them to scatter to other planes, most notably Earth.”

Lance was petulant long enough for Kolivan to busy himself with their mouths again. The pressure grounded Lance but didn’t distract him. Kolivan broke away just as Lance asked, “Why did Galra come here?”

“Our world is hell. We were starving. When we found natural fissures in reality that acted as portals to worlds abundant in life energy we used them.”

Lance pressed his lips to the corner of Kolivan’s mouth.

“You have a question.”

“I don’t want to ask it.”

Lance felt his curiosity, but Kolivan said, “Very well.”

Being given an out leant Lance some courage. He sat up a little, braced his forearms on Kolivan’s broad chest and chanced looking in his eyes. Kolivan stroked his back and side kindly.

“Have you ever…eaten from people before?”

“Yes.”

“You have?”

“It is in my nature,” Kolivan said. “I can eat other things, and I do. But my body was built to eat quintessence first. At home the witches extract consumable quintessence from the air and distill it into physical form. It’s more potent than taking it directly from a living being.”

“A-and before them? Before you…led the pack?”

Kolivan nodded. “I’ve eaten from people without their consent before. I’ve killed, intentionally or not. I was young and angry and hungry and I regret it. I was not taught to respect life, it was a lesson I learned later.”

Lance nodded. Kolivan watched him. “Does that bother you?”

“A little. I know that not who you are now, but I dunno, I thought you popped out of the womb all _life is precious and I believe in living peacefully with witches also my cock’s huge rar rar rar,”_ Kolivan laughed soundlessly. “It’s…weird…hearing different.”

“I was a different person then. I will be a different person later. As my experiences accrete my outlook changes. I change.”

Lance nodded.

“You’re very wise for someone so young.”

“Wise? _Me?”_

“You are not quick to judge. You understand when I speak. It’s more than I expected of you.”

Affection and lust slammed into Lance like a sledgehammer. Lance blushed, small before Kolivan’s mighty attention. He whined as he was kissed, “Do you have to leave _tonight?”_

Amusement. Joy. Regret. Doubt. Relief. Distraction. “I think it’s for the best,” Kolivan whispered. He rubbed his nose to Lance’s. “We’ve barely been apart since we met. Spending time apart is good.”

“For what?”

“For one, it’s good to reorient yourself without the constant presence of a partner. You might find it liberating to be alone after such a long time together.”

“I’ve spent enough time alone.”

“I know,” he kissed him. “All the same, loneliness is a useful tool. We are not joined at the hip nor will we ever be simply because we are witch and demon. In the future where we may spend days to months away from one another. Separation is good.”

Lance hummed. “Koli.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think you’d ever want to marry again?”

Kolivan hesitated.

“I get the feeling that’s a yes.”

“I’m hesitant how to reply because I’m unsure where you stand on how we live in our pack. Do you find our ways…disgusting?”

“Huh? No! When did I ever say that?”

“I was never able to tell.”

Lance shook his head. “I think the whole polyamory, polygamy, multiple-five-year-marriage-contracts thing to be cool in its own way. Weird, to me, for sure, but like, you guys live for centuries, it makes sense that’ll mean you have different ways of living.” He squashed his nose to Kolivan’s. “It’s just that…I figure you have needs. I can’t be your everything. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Would you prefer us to be monogamous, Lance?”

“Uh. Um. I don’t want to restrict you—”

“Answer me,” he said softly.

“Maybe. A little. Yes. At least at first.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? I’m happy you’ve told me. Would you like to discuss this some more?”

“You’re not mad?”

“No: monogamy is not _unheard of_ among us.” He smiled. “And if that is your preference, of course it’s worth discussing. Talk to me.”

Lance, a little overwhelmed, dropped his head to Kolivan’s chest and played with a nipple through his thin shirt. Kolivan tensed then sighed, went boneless, and ran claws in pretty spirals on his shoulder blade in retaliation. Lance asked what polygamy meant.

They spoke at length about their interpretations of concepts. Lance’s ideas were heavily based in naïve assumptions on the little he’d seen of his own world, and Kolivan spoke from a place of abundant experience from an alien world. All the while their voices got lighter and lighter, Lance’s fingers taking on a deliciously punishing quality and Kolivan’s fingers slipping beneath the band of Lance’s underwear to rub ineffectually at his folds.

In no time at all they were exchanging open-mouthed kisses. The slow arousal they’d built up around themselves while talking about sex, orgies, reproductive rights, and surrogacy now beat against them like a wave dragging them under.

Lance squirmed. His underwear and pants were peeled to his ankles. Kolivan dragged his hands up his long legs. His hands were large enough that he could comfortably finger Lance sitting astride, and Lance groaned and moaned and rolled into it.

“Mnf,” Kolivan began, his hand slipping from Lance’s body to his own. “Love, may I—”

_Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes—_

Kolivan brought himself free—he was wearing a skirt today and there was a buttoned seam right over his penis—and threw his head back and hissed. Lance sucked at his throat.

“Can I ride you, Koli?”

_Please._

Lance wiggled back, bat Kolivan’s hand away, and lowered himself. Kolivan breathed shallowly and quickly. He jumped when the tip of his dick touched Lance’s labia. When he was aligned, Lance threw himself down and rode with abandon.

Kolivan shouted in surprise and didn’t get the chance to recover. He grasped Lance’s hips in urgency. His head was flung back and already sweaty. His hooves clawed through the sheets to the floor as Lance worked _slap slap slap slap slap_ against his tight hips.

Kolivan was having difficulty keeping quiet and still.

Lance braced forward and captured his dark nipples in a broiling cold pinch. Kolivan shouted out helplessly.

“Stop moving,” Lance demanded, dancing sensually now.

Kolivan whimpered, looked down his nose.

There were tears in his eyes. He revised their Bond for any sort of pain he might have missed between the initial burst of pleasant surprise and mindless static.

 _I’m fine,_ Kolivan wasn’t speaking. He was drawing blood in his lips struggling to keep silent.

Lance kept their eyes locked as he lowered his lips to Kolivan’s chest. He dragged the tip of his tongue across his solar plexus. Kolivan’s grip bruised his ass.

_You make me want to fuck you TORTURE can I move? Can I move? So pretty little love my witch my little genius—so soft MINE mine want want can I move?_

Kolivan trembled, stone still.

“Nice,” Lance praised.

Kolivan’s eyes lidded and a tear fell to the side of his face.

“Those are good tears, right?”

“No,” Kolivan quarreled. “Yes,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “ _Please_ let me make love to you.”

“No.” And Lance started up his antics again.

Kolivan bit into a stuffie to keep from yowling. He gasped on every other release and pinch Lance did to his right nipple while slowly painfully twisting the other. Lance’s control was _magnificent._ And he was competent with empathy on his side: Kolivan was an open book and in disarray.

His tail lashed against the floor. “ _Lance…!”_

_Harder MORE—let me (breed)—wait wait want wait want—_

Lance saw it flicker in and out but he saw it. He slowed. “Do you want to breed me, Koli?”

Kolivan’s eyes snapped to his. He was _hungry._

Lance rolled his hips lethargically. His channel trembled on its own accord, eagerly sucking his length down. His voice broke, “Breed me.”

Kolivan shook. He lifted one hand to caress Lance’s cheek. He whispered, “Say it again.”

“Breed me,” he sucked his thumb between his teeth and tongue. _“Mmm!_ Please…”

“Again.”

“Breed me, Kolivan.”

Kolivan threw his hips up. Lance sang.

_“Again.”_

_“Breed me, Kolivan! Fuck me! AH—”_

His hands pinching his hips hurt and stretched the skin on his lower back. Kolivan was yanking Lance’s little body down as he was forcing his hot, drooling cock up. Kolivan watched him from behind his glorious glistening pectorals, his composure lost and his hair a sea of white in the gloom. His eyes stayed narrow in faltering focus. His breathing was hoarse and quick.

Lance’s nails dug into the skin for purchase. His feet were barely touching the floor. A magnetism in his soul made him _stay stay stay attached,_ nothing could get between him and Kolivan now _nothing_. He was going to stay and he was going to get heavy with Kolivan’s spend and kin. He squealed as much and Kolivan rewarded him with savage rubs of his wet thumb to clit.

Lance came first, bowed from the crackle of energy, unintentionally dispersing a shockwave that rattled the bookshelf, distressed the plants, and cracked his skylights. Kolivan was quick to follow: he gathered Lance in his arms and for the first time Lance felt his knot slide home. Impossibly hot, impossibly broad, it stretched out his entrance like a good good burn and pulsed from the effort of filling Lance silly.

Kolivan was trembling, gasping.

“Oh,” Lance kissed his throat. He could reach as high as the hollow, barely could taste his Adam’s apple. “Kolivan? I— _mm,”_ Kolivan had thrust at the sound of his name. “Are you alright?”

“Please…your fire…I feel cold…”

Lance set them alight without a second thought. Kolivan’s trembling changed to the occasional shudder then, and he continued to hold Lance tight.

It wasn’t long before Lance whispered, “I want to go again.”

Kolivan made a sound between a snort and a groan. “There are worse ways to die, I suppose.”

Lance giggled.

-

After Lance recovered from sending Kolivan to Daibazaal and back, an entertained Adam thrust several books in his hands. They were outfitted with annotations and sticky post-its drawing attention to a range of charms and seals.

Lance gave them a cursory glance. “What’s this about?”

“Sound-proofing wards and energy containment shields.”

Lance burst into colour.

“Curtis is still repairing the panes in the kitchen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Keith ran away yesterday, we haven’t seen him since.”

Lance hid his face behind a book.

“Shiro was worried you killed Kolivan. Did you know he was injured?”

Lance groaned. Kolivan had sprained his tail. He’d been so caught up in their play he didn’t notice it until Ulaz asked him about the unusual colouring of his skin.

“It’s no wonder you summoned such a powerful demon, you would’ve broken the spine of anyone else.”

Lance blushed.

“And from what I can tell from last night’s performance they would have _thanked_ you!”

“You’ve made your point,” Lance pouted.

Adam eased up with a chuckle. “That aside, how are you feeling? Any soreness?”

Lance glared.

“I meant _spiritually.”_

“A little,” Lance winced. _Soreness_ was an odd way to talk about how thin his soul felt. While mostly recuperated from two summonings, it still shook in the wind of the ether, and Shiro had suspended him from lessons until he was back to one hundred percent.

Shiro, who didn’t seem to be able to look him directly in the eye. He wandered into the study and smiled at Lance’s ear. “Hey, buddy, you’re up! How’re you feeling, sore?”

Lance didn’t immediately reply.

Shiro cleared his throat, blushed, and murmured, “I meant _spiritually.”_

“I’m fine.”

Kolivan appeared shortly after that. Adam dismissed himself, and they were alone.

When Shiro cleared his throat again Lance tensed in horror. Kolivan felt it but didn’t understand until Shiro spoke: “Firstly, I want to start by saying what the two of you do in the privacy of your room is your own business…”

Lance covered his eyes and weathered Shiro’s tactful lecture on consideration and protection. Kolivan apologized copiously and spoke evenly, quick to dismiss any fears of Lance being treated poorly and the means to enable their sexual health.

Shiro seemed lighter at the end of the discussion and could look Lance in the eye again, though Lance couldn’t tell because it was his turn to be shy.

“I’m glad we talked about this.”

Lance whispered, “I’m glad it’s over.”

“To be fair, love, we did talk about—”

“Ah!” Kolivan paused, then tried again. _“Ah!”_

Kolivan took the message and stopped talking.

Shiro sported a poorly disguised grin. “Secondly, Sam got back to me about what he could find out about heartless witches. With Kolivan’s sources we found out a lot of interesting information.”

Lance straightened. This was what he was waiting for the past week.

Heartless witches were magic users rare enough that they mostly fell away from human consciousness. There has never been a heartless witch in modern history. There was an autopsy of an infamous witch several centuries ago who was discovered to be without a second heart. That produced the theory that the most powerful witches of them all were the ones without second hearts.

“The Galra resources were the most eye-opening,” Shiro prattled excitedly. “We were coming from the perspective that heartless witches were the odd ones out, but it turns out that it’s the opposite. Second hearts are hereditary but began when the Alteans first came to our plane and modified human bodies to be able to manipulate magic.”

Lance blinked wide-eyed. “Alteans _experimented_ on humans?”

“Well, the narrator makes it sound like the humans volunteered. The second heart is an Altean invention. The Alteans didn’t have second hearts themselves.”

Lance squeaked, “So I’m Altean!?”

“I would have noticed if you were a demigod,” Shiro replied smilingly.

“Likewise,” Kolivan said, “although when I was first summoned I had assumed you were. You have the strength of one.”

“Basically all it is is this: you are a naturally occurring witch. The first natural human witch to be born in modern times.”

“Oh,” Lance sighed. “Oh, that’s kinda cool.”

“That’s _very_ cool.”

“I was worried I was some kind of freak or something.”

Shiro’s smile took on a devious quality. “Well. Maybe a little bit.”

“Ha,” Lance intoned. He frowned, “So what now?”

“ _Now_ we finish your training and you have the rest of your life ahead of you. It’s just, Lance—it goes without saying but, I’ll say it anyway: whether you go to stay you’ll always have a place here. We—”

They jumped. Lance had launched to his feet. He stormed around Shiro’s massive desk and threw his arms around the tough shoulders of his gawking teacher. “Thank you. You don’t know what that means to me.”

Kolivan carefully exhaled to mediate the sorrow and joy in his heart. Lance half-believed that his family had abandoned him for the greater good. They had tried to raise him in the best way they knew how—leaning him towards dresses, locking him away to pray—and for all that love, they had for him they failed him spectacularly. Lance was a child when he was sent away. Anger and confusion made him paint the family he barely remembered in a hateful light, sometimes.

But Shiro reminded him today that he had a family that welcomed him with open arms. Accepted his demon magic and all, accepted the biggest threat to humankind as Lance’s partner. Memories flashed through Kolivan’s mind: Adam’s light banter when Lance was possessed, Keith’s annoyance rather than terror when he conveyed with ghosts, Adam’s curiosity when Lance mumbled things a child shouldn’t know.

And Shiro’s ceaseless patience as he flailed and questioned his role as his teacher.

Lance sobbed into Shiro’s shirt. “I love you.”

Shiro laughed, gripping his boy back as tightly, red faced and bright eyed and weeping too.

Kolivan wiped at his own eyes.

And then they learned the sixteen lessons. Like doors being opened from one room to another, a wealth of information and possibility was revealed to them. Lance’s control was precise in no time at all. Shiro learned how Lance reacted to certain things and adjusted his teachings accordingly. Kolivan watched Lance, starry eyed and hungry to learn, applied himself with abandon.

Adam muttered, “You should fib on the registration exam. At this rate they’re going to rank you at eleven or higher.”

“I thought the ranking only went up to ten.”

Shiro smiled. “It does.”

Inevitably, the seventeenth lesson came. Inevitably, Lance mastered it. He was drawing sigils on the walls of his room to move his things to Kolivan’s lair when Curtis knocked on his open door.

“I wanted to tell you that I am leaving today.”

Lance frowned. “Where are you and Adam going?”

“Not Adam,” Curtis smiled. “We terminated our contract this morning.”

Hot panic lanced up his spine. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I am content with Adam. And I am happy that he was my witch. But I am tired now, and I want to be one with the wind.”

“O-oh,” Lance frowned. “Is…is it like dying?”

“It is like the Ascension. I am turning into something else somewhere you cannot reach.” He opened his arms. “May I get a hug?”

Lance pooled against him before the question was completely out. He smelled like nothing, felt like nothing. “Man. I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll miss my cooking, you mean.”

Lance laughed. “It feels like the coven’s breaking apart. Is Keith running away too?”

“No, although he’s been in the woods all day.”

“What, doesn’t want to see us off?”

“It doesn’t seem so.”

Lance nodded.

“Well. Until another life, Lance.”

Curtis dissolved into mist and flowed down the stairs, perhaps to Adam’s side where, in privacy, he’ll truly ascend.

Lance went in search of Keith.

Shiro shrugged sadly when he was asked. “He likes the concept of pack and family. He’s probably really mad everyone’s leaving.”

“I mean, I’m coming back, eventually.”

“Tell him, if you can find him.”

Lance scowled.

Kolivan sipped his tea. “Take your time, love.”

“Mm,” he slipped off the porch and wandered in the wilderness.

He was ten steps off the main trail when he started singing at the top of his voice in awful, butchered soprano. A pear flew in his direction. He ducked with a laugh and then continued singing.

“ _Shut up,”_ Keith dropped out of a tree and threw a pear.

Lance deflected it with a thought. “Keith buddy! And here I was thinking you were avoiding me!”

“You’re too loud to avoid. What do you want?”

“I’m graduating. I’m leaving the coven today.”

Keith grumbled, “I know. And what, you want some heartfelt farewell? Go away. I don't want to hear you're not coming back.”

Lance startled. “Of course I'm coming back.”

“You are?”

“Why do you look so surprised? I’m coming back. I love you guys: you’re my family.”

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“I wanna tell you something.”

Lance shrugged, “Mkay? I’m all ears.”

Keith clutched him by the collar of his shirt and pulled. Lance stepped forward helplessly. Keith’s forehead pressed to his, and then his hands turned gentle on Lance’s nape. There was a pause, room for Lance to yank himself away, and Keith angled closer still.

Lance let himself be kissed and Keith kept it chaste.

“That’s all I wanted to say,” he whispered. He drew back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Lance nodded mutely.

Keith nodded, hopped, skipped, and transformed into a wolf mid-bound. He was gone in a moment, dark pelt indistinguishable from the brush, and Lance screamed after him: _“YOU CAN TURN INTO A WOLF?!”_

-

_One year later_

Garrison soldiers loitered in the darkest corners of the José Martí International Airport. Lance’s eyes skittered over them from beneath the broad of his wide hat.

“You are a magic practitioner?” the border control officer asked.

Lance quickly removed his hat and smiled. “Yes sir,” and slipped him his ID.

The card was pretty and shiny and displayed in an obnoxious bright red _10-A._ The officer looked at the card and at Lance at the card and at Lance. Lance smiled. He went to his computer. “What do you do for a living, Mr. Serrano?”

“I buy and sell products on behalf of the Shirogane Coven from across the world. I’m in Cuba today to get some rare shells.”

His fingers hiccupped on _Shirogane_ but said nothing more of it.

Adam had recently gotten retested, Lance remembered. He came out with an eight. Garrison occupied Cuba was likely unhappy about permitting entry to one of the few formidable not-friends of Sanda, who clawed her way back up to commander.

But Lance had done nothing wrong on his paltry visit home, they had no motivation to act against him.

The officer glanced unsurely at one of the Garrison officers and their grey robes. He handed Lance his passport with his ID enclosed.

“And you are travelling with Mr. Serrano?”

“Yes sir,” and Kolivan produced his own identification.

“Are you a magic user?”

“No sir.”

He looked up sharply. Kolivan’s suit _reeked_ of magic.

“My husband was in the studio with me when I was doing some last minute enchantments this morning,” Lance rescued. “It’s my fault he smells like a thunderstorm.”

“I find it a calming aroma myself. Perhaps you should launch a cologne line, love.”

Lance giggled. “Shut up.”

A side of the officer’s mouth quirked even as he seemed a little wide-eyed, whether in intrigue or horror Lance was unsure. “Here’s your passport. Enjoy your trip to Havana, gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” they chorused, and Lance threaded his fingers through Kolivan’s as they moved away.

“Next!”

Though he could do without the bug-eyed double takes whenever Lance revealed his rank, he enjoyed that he was capable of interlocking elbows with his Galra in public. His glamour was holding up exceptionally well and was imperceptible to most. It smoothed out Kolivan's alien ridges and replaced his smoky blue skin with an even dark brown. His hair was now black and long and shiny, and rather than a solid yellow his irises were a rich umber.

Seeing Kolivan as human did things to Lance. He was besotted from day one with Kolivan’s otherworldly beauty and antiquated politeness, but seeing the man he fell in love with reinterpreted in a form he innately understood had kept his arousal at a low broil for the past eleven hours.

Kolivan occasionally sent him a knowing smirk—he had high cheekbones, a blunt chin and large hawk nose, there was something South Asian about his proportions—and Lance got wet each time.

He looked at Lance that way now as he adjusted Lance’s hat and curled a bit of hair behind his ear. “Patience, love.”

Lance whimpered. “Don’t touch me like that _here, Koli…”_

Kolivan chuckled something rich and delightful and it ruined Lance’s coherence. It was Kolivan who had to find their bags and a ride: Lance was too preoccupied watching his back stretch out his gunmetal blazer and his ass fill his slacks.

In the taxi Lance sobered a little. Watching Cuba roll by did not imbue him with the sense of longing or nostalgia he expected. He swallowed nervously on Kolivan’s shoulder.

“How do you feel?” Kolivan asked, knowing exactly how he _felt._

But there were nuances that only communication could cover, and Lance’s willingness to speak was more telling than whatever naturally cascaded down their Bond. “I don’t feel the way I expected to feel.” He swallowed. “What if I meet my family and I feel…nothing?”

“Would you like to practice crying hysterically?”

Lance snorted and pushed his shoulder.

Kolivan wrapped an arm around him and kissed his temple. “I aim to have you crying hysterically regardless.”

Lance gasped, embarrassed and horny. “Kolivan,” he glanced at their driver. _“Please.”_

“Not in my car, please,” their driver intoned neutrally.

Kolivan receded with a soft reply, though out of sight his fingers pressed delicious pressure to Lance’s inner thigh.

Getting to and in and up to their room couldn’t come quickly enough. Lance pinned Kolivan to the door and fell to his knees. Kolivan gasped in surprise and again in pleasure. Lance swallowed his length faster than Kolivan could cope.

The door rattled as he braced against it. Ebony hair cascaded down the sharp perfection of his shoulders. His eyes were unremarkable and familiar as they looked down at Lance. He put his hands in his hair moaning and breathing. Lance’s technique was tailored to Kolivan’s liking now. Kolivan obediently parted his thighs when hot hands reached for his balls.

“This suit isn’t fireproof, love.”

 _I won’t burn it off,_ Lance replied, _as much as I want to._

Kolivan gripped Lance’s hair. “ _Mm._ You are beautiful when you are desperate.”

_You wound me up purposefully._

“Not entirely. I didn’t expect you to like how I look this much.” He teased, “Do you prefer when I look human, pet?”

“No!” Lance’s mouth was shiny and pretty. “No, Kolivan—”

“Sh-sh,” he laughed and dragged Lance to his erection again. “I was teasing love.”

Lance whined, mouth full. His eyes were rheumy and unsure.

“Seeing me through a human lens interests you, and I am fine with that.” He caressed Lance’s cheek. “A part of me has been curious for a while what you would look like as a Galra as well.”

Lance’s spirit and mind grew still as it does when he thinks. Then he closed his eyes and Kolivan gasped. Lance’s hair bloomed white. His limbs turned long, took on a dark blue sheen. Fangs scraped against his erection and a black tail whipped into being.

Kolivan sighed and touched Lance’s ears, now long and pointy. It felt _real_ beneath his hands.

 _It is real,_ Lance replied, sucking him leisurely. _Can I break some of your glamour?_

“Whatever you want, love.”

Lance blinked and Kolivan’s penis was back to its natural glory. He groaned in relief. Kolivan braced his hands in Lance’s bleached hair. _“Oh!”_ he cried, he breathed hard. “Just so, love. Mm. _Mm!”_

Lance drew back before he came.

Kolivan grunted. He hissed. “You torture me.”

“Just a little,” Lance stood and pressed a kiss to his lips. Kolivan blended into it, soothed. His hands wandered down his lover’s foreign body and he was happy when Lance whined at a stroke on his tail.

“You have sensitive parts as a Galra does,” he murmured appreciately. “Such wonderful attention to detail you’ve given this body. I am impressed.”

Lance challenged: “Can you find the rest of them?”

Kolivan kissed Lance’s nose and pulled Lance out of his sweater. A kiss to his cheek and his pants were unbuckled. A kiss to his neck and he was lonely in his dress shirt and underwear and sneakers. Lance’s hands went to Kolivan’s belt.

“No, I stay dressed.”

Lance purred, “Good, I agree. You _rock_ this suit.”

Kolivan purred into his mouth. His hands ran nonsense patterns up and down Lance’s spine and Lance trembled and whimpered. Kolivan catalogued the places that caused his little love’s breath to catch. He suckled on Lance’s neck ceaselessly. Lance groaned and wrapped his arms around him. Kolivan rocked his erection forward between Lance’s thighs. Their new heights made alignment much less awkward.

“You smell lovely,” Kolivan pumped the base of Lance’s tail and tickled his lower back. “May I taste you?”

“I w-want,” Lance kissed him. “Please fuck me?”

“Whatever you wa—”

“Against the door?”

Kolivan’s eyes brightened in interest. “Yes.” Understand pulsing between them and Lance jumped a little and Kolivan caught him under his thighs. He slammed him against the door the same moment Lance cast the soundproofing spell through him.

Lance groaned appreciatively. Kolivan salivated at the sight of his fangs. As he lined himself up he murmured, “A favor, love?”

“Anything.” His gaze was lidded and submissive and not totally _here._ But consent and desire to please thrummed side by side.

Kolivan licked his bottom lip. “How do you feel about being bitten?”

“Oh!” Lance giggled. “One of your infamous kinks!”

Kolivan smiled.

“Yes,” and he tilted his head, providing access to his throat.

Kolivan kissed that skin as he slipped into Lance’s greedy body. “You are the only human I know who throws themselves into being eaten so eagerly.”

Lance laughed around bouncing on Kolivan’s cock. He screamed at the first nick of fang. “More,” he asked. Black fire danced in their hair. _“More.”_

Kolivan tore Lance’s skin, careful even with Lance’s cajoling. He was dutifully unmoving—though his tail thrashed and he understood why Kolivan’s was sprained so frequently. Kolivan laughed, his teeth red with blood.

They eventually moved to the bed. Kolivan’s knot plugged them together, and Lance on his belly arched his back into Kolivan’s hips. He hummed and Kolivan lapped at his wounds. “Did that hurt in a bad way?”

“Um…what do you mean a bad way?”

“A pain that makes you want to run away.”

“You would have felt it if I didn’t want it.”

“If the past year has taught me anything it is that our feelings are not necessarily true to your thoughts.” He sucked a hickey under Lance’s ear. “Talk to me.”

“It’s not…something I’d want to do every day. Like…I like scratching. It kinda burns? I like the burn. But this is a dull, achy pain, I’m not crazy about it.”

“That’s fair.”

“Did you like biting me, Koli?”

“Yes,” Kolivan purred. “I like seeing it, because it shows me that you trust me to the point of permitting me to hurt you.”

“I mean…it’s weird, but you’re not hurting me. Yes it _hurts_ but its you—you won’t hurt me or _harm_ me. Not seriously.”

Kolivan wiggled his hips and delight cantered down their Bond. Lance grinned too.

Kolivan sobered to ask, “And tomorrow? Do you feel less worried about it?”

Lance blew out a sigh. “Just hold my hand through it.”

“Of course.”

-

Kolivan held Lance’s hand as he knocked on the door of his childhood home.

He heard conversations and music when they walked the parapet. The walls were faded yellow and the gutters were less white than his memory, and there were rooms grown onto its slab roof, but it was undoubtedly his mother’s voice that reached them before she opened the door.

She smelled like garlic and limes and coconut oil. She was smaller—or maybe he was just taller?—and broader, but it was his eyes looking back at him all wide-eyed and unfamiliar.

Something seized Lance’s heart as he smiled. “Hi, mama.”

She didn’t move.

“Uh, I just. I graduated. Shiro let me go a year ago. I’ve been travelling since then.”

She didn’t move.

“U-um. I’m a level ten witch! And I outsource materials and customers for Shiro and his husband and uh. And this is my partner Kolivan. He’s a demon. And.” And Lance started crying.

She burst into action. She yanked him into her breasts at the first tear. “Welcome home,” she kissed his hair and ear and he drowned. “Welcome home welcome _home,_ mija.”

“A-actually, I go by Lance now.”

“Mijo,” she whispered, drew back and touched his face. “ _Mijo_.” She extended a hand to Kolivan. “Thank you. He wouldn’t be here if not for you. I know it. I can feel it. You love him. Thank you.”

Kolivan’s tears were his own.

“Come in,” she dragged them, strong little as she was. “Come in.”

Lance stiffened, “Will they…want to see me?”

But he was barely through the door before he heard screaming and his sister ran down the rest of his stairs and threw herself at him. The cacophony summoned the rest of the family from their hovels, sister-in-laws, aged siblings, nephews and nieces he'd never met. He was swept up in calls and hugs and hysterical shouts and tears and he was bawling bawling bawling before he was completely through the door.

Ten years, but the idea that they would _miss him_ had never crossed his mind.

Kolivan knew.

Lance looked over the sea of affection and caught Kolivan’s eyes and knowing, glad smile.

_A little courage please Koli?_

Kolivan leant it.

Finally, Lance laughed.


End file.
